The Saga Of House Valor
by ThatAuthorA
Summary: In the far reaches of the Imperium exists the frontier, where worlds are constantly won and lost in the name of the Emperor. Often ignored for those worlds that have long proven their worth the Emperor, they are often without anyone but themselves. One Imperial Knight House, House Valor, lost and without home, find themselves here. And here, is where their saga begins.
1. Chapter 1

The Saga of House Valor

The Seige Of Sola IV

It was another war, in another world, in a galaxy of nothing but eternal war. Where the anvil of war was beaten by the chorus of conflict, in an epic orchestra of explosions and the cries of untold deaths. This was the battle fought upon the world of Sola IV, an Agri world designated by the Imperial Admistratum as a class 4 production world, one which while not imperative for the Imperium at large, would provide much benefit in the long run. The planet pushed to the very back of most administrations mind, as it was far on the western fringe, one of the closest to the uncharted regions of space, away from any other worlds of use, and thusly an acceptable loss. However, this particular world harbored a dark secret, and those whom had once claimed this world as their own saw their number become increasingly infected with the taint of corruption. That horrible fate which was a blight on the shining worlds of the eternal Emperor, and devoured humanity wherever it could. It had happened, on this world there was a cult of the Chaos God Nurgle; the father of bile, the bringer of death and disease. Though the majority of the world remained steadfast loyalty to their Emperor, a horrific disease was set upon them the likes of which had not been accounted for in the records of that world. A disease that forcibly bent the will and spirit of the infected to turn on their fellows and hunt them down, like rabid beasts, their bodies terribly mutated and deformed as the Daemons of Nurgle marched forth. Though the PDF forces managed to bravely stem the tide, it would be not long before they were overwhelmed. So the call was sent, and received by an Imperitor class frigate, as well as several Transport Ships within the system of Imperial Guard who were en-route from the recruitment of local worlds, where their tithes had been collected. They were more than willing to accept the call to arms, and so responded quickly as they began their arduous trip through the Warp to reach their destination. However, it would take days if not months for them to appear, and by then the world would have been surely destroyed, all loyalists with it. Had it not been for the one ship that was close enough that they could respond within the Solar week. This was the ship, The _Royal Adros_, the current home of the Imperial Knight House, Valor.

Sent adrift for nearly three years, those of House Valor were all what many would consider Freeblades. They had no home world to which they could return to, for it had been destroyed due to a massive calamity within its core, and thus wandered the vastness of space. Their home had to be abandoned, and much to disdain of the houses High Lord, Sir Reginal, not all of his subjects managed to escape alive. Only the closest of his court and their territories managed to make it to the ship in time. Before the planet imploded. All of their sacred Knights stored carefully within the main hanger bay of the massive cruiser. However, only barely enough were salvaged to outfit all of his Court members, a handful of the Armiger class knights saved as well, but devoid of bondsmen. His own suit, his prized Knight Castellian, The Oathsworn, on board as well. They were a proud house who were renowned for their mastery of the Castellen Knights, and all of his court members also held ownership of these precious machines. However, they were left without the capacity to build more, and as a House that separated itself from the Mechanicus, they had no means of quickly repairing or a hope of building new suits. For all intents, they _were_ essentially Freeblades now, set adrift within the emptiness of space. The people they managed to save, all 10 thousand of them, all the subjects that they had left. Many of whom were mere commoners, and not equipped to survive out in space. He and his court did their best to adapt them to this new life, but many did not take well, and they barely managed to survive their first warp jump. Still, Sir Reginal deigned hope that he and his people could rebuild. Their house was still alive, and as long as he was their High Lord, he would see to it that they found a new home for him and his own to prosper. A new Knight world for House Valor, where they would rebuild and begin anew. They would find new ways to procure new Knights, more people, and a home for those displaced with him. He and his knights would protect all under the watchful glow of the Emperors light, the innocent and the sanctity of humanity. This had to wait however, for he received a distress signal from the planet Sola IV, and as long as there was even but one member, none of House Valor would turn down an Imperial plea for help.

His head of state, Baron Viktor walked into the room Sir Reginal had deemed for himself. At the far back of the ship, secluded from the majority of the crew and all else. Baron Viktor had wanted to speak, but found that he could only watch in worry as he saw Sir Reginal stare out into the void. Through the ornate window that peered out into the back of the ship. Sir Reginal was repeatedly asked, pleaded with, to take the room within the center of the ship, where the rest of his court had decided to stay. Away from immediate danger, such as these windows into the outside realm of darkness. One hit to it, and all inside would be thrust out, and many feared that Sir Reginal would be killed by such an event. They refused to lose their leader. Sir Reginal was amused by this, as he was happy to know how much his fellows cared of him. However, he would not move because he refused to be in comfort until his people had a world to call their own once more. When they could return to the simple lifestyle they had held before they were summoned onto this behemoth of metal.

Sir Reginal smiled, the bags under his eyes evident of his lack of sleep.

"What is it Viktor?"

Viktor bowed as was custom when addressed by the High Lord.

"I just came to inform you that we will arrive within the hour. We managed to communicate with the loyalist forces on the surface. It seems, that they are more than thankful for our aide."

Reginal smiled as he turned to him.

"Good. Then let us get all of the court together, and we shall perform our rights and dawn our armor. I want us to be ready for combat immediately as we enter the sector."

Viktor frowned.

"High Lord, forgive my rudeness, but remember that this vessel is filled with our people. Many of whom have not had any need to fight off daemons. I do not believe it is a safe risk to land our ship…"

Sir Reginal took a deep breath. Perhaps in his eagerness for combat, to sway his mind away from the troubles of his House, he did not think of his people. Viktor was right. They would not be able to help, nor even be subject anywhere near the surface until the corruption was cleansed. But he needed a means to get down, and soon.

He clenched his fist.

"Contact them again. We will remain in orbit, however we will require a transport vessel to ferry me and my court to the surface where we are needed."

Viktor obliged, though he knew how much it hurt Reginal to suffer his pride. He was not one to easily ask help of others, but he understood that they weren't able to do everything. At times, they needed to rely on someone else, no matter how much it infuriated him. Viktor was glad that his High Lord managed to stall back his pride for his people, despite the pain it gave him. He only prayed to the Emperor that they would find a new world for them to start over. But until then, he had his orders and needed them fulfilled, so he made his way towards the communications bay. Lord Reginal followed behind, a stoic expression upon his face, ready to exude confidence to all who saw him.

Reginal was pained dearly by his Houses increasing need for help from others. Especially this damned vessel, gifted to them by a priest of the Omnisiah. Likely in the hopes he would cower to them for help, and offer them fealty. But no, House Valor would only serve fealty to the Emperor himself, and act as they saw fit. Not to the whims of the Mechanicus, on call as if servants themselves.

Soon they made it to the main bridge of the ship, where on the main front display the planet below them was visible. Bright flashes visible along the planet's surface, as what Viktor and Reginal could only assume were explosions on a cataclysmic scale.

The astropaths and other bridge crew scoured the deck as they began to receive messages and input data into the goliath that was their ship. Viktor made his way to the captain, a young and meek fellow named Phoebus, who had only just been raised to the status of captain. A weak willed man, but competent enough for Reginal to allow him his station. If they survived to find a new world, perhaps he would deem it fit to elevate him to the status of Noble. Perhaps then, he would at least remain within House Valors fold, in case the need for such a ship ever rose again.

His attention was pulled as the screen opened into a Vox connection, with a beautiful woman dressed in all black attire behind the camera. Though the insignia on the hat she wore slightly troubled him. It was the **I** of the Imperial Inquisition.

"Well, it seems we have managed to acquire some impressive help. I have to admit, I did not expect an entire Knight House to come to the aid of a single planet."

Reginal stood straight, not willing to bow before anyone, and rolled his shoulders.

"And I did not expect such a world to have an Inquisitor upon it. Tell me, why are you there?"

The woman rose an eyebrow.

"Certainly, you aren't assuming anything are you? I promise you, I do not take kindly to passive aggressive comments."

Reginal stayed firm. He knew that wherever the Inquisition followed, there was almost certainly troubles beyond mere incursions. He knew because of the long quest he had undertook before he became the lord of his House, when he was under the imperial retinue of an Inquisitor.

"We are always ready to help protect humanity wherever it needs to be. I simply wish to know the whole scope of this conflict."

The Inquisitor smiled.

"I like you. You have a strong spirit, and a keen mind. Unlike many, others, I have had to deal with in the past. Very well. It is simple. This world is a lost cause. I managed to procure the remainder of the loyalist forces within a single city, which I will indicate to you on this transmission frequency. Of course, we will need major assistance in protecting the site where they are to be escorted off world. I ask that you and your Knights assist us in this. I also hope that you be willing to shelter all those whom we rescue. As I was just informed, I will also procure you landing craft large enough for you and your knights to be brought down."

Reginal was taken aback. It was very rare for Inquisitors, from his experience, to actively seek the salvation or protection of Imperial citizens. At least, in such small scales as this. Normally they would be found un-savable and offered the Emperors mercy through the use of exterminatus. Still, he would not refuse. Not while there were still those who required his assistance.

"Very well. But might I ask about… any Psykers. I will not allow such taint to even set foot upon this ship. Though I tolerate the Astropaths for guidance, I will not risk anything else. My people have no experience with such abhumans, and such would only cause chaos upon this vessal."

The Inquisitor frowned.

"Do not worry. I will be sure to cleanse the remaining loyalist forces of any of that fowl ilk. I promise you, no Psyker will be allowed upon your vessel."

Reginal took a deep breath, unflinching as he watched her.

"Then it is settled. Me and my court shall head to the designated location as soon as possible. May the Emperor guide you, Lady Inquisitor."

She smiled.

"May he guide us all. And for our sakes, do not be late."

At that the connection was severed, and Reginal was ready to commit himself and his forces. So, without another word he made his way through the ship, and into the docking bay. A trip that nearly took him an entire hour. The bay a room wide as a castles foray, where his holy machine stood in the center alongside its brethren. The machine spirit within seemed to call out to him, for it was ready for war. His fellow knights, his court of friends and trusted companions, lined up before him, as they donned their armor. His second in command, Lord Varus bowed before him.

"High Lord… we are ready for our glory. The transport ships have just arrived. Are you ready to join us?"

Reginal nodded.

"Yes, I am. Thank you, Varus. All knights, to your armor! Today we march out to war. For House Valor! For the Emperor!"

All of his court beat their chest with a determined fist.

"For House Valor! For the Emperor!"

It was then a flurry of commotion, as all of the serfs and the Sacristans dedicated to each suit began the holy rights of activation for each Knight. Reginal was led to his Gallant, The Oathsworn. It was named thusly for its long lineage of battle; for once it was committed to a battle, to an Oath of help, it would never betray that. His father died in battle, but the machine continued in his absence, driven by the mighty spirit within. It was an honor to wield such a machine as this, and he knew that it would stay with him if it meant total destruction.

He felt the cold armor plates of its hull as he was raised on a lift to his Throne Mechanicum. The lift stopped, and he jumped off, into his machines open cockpit. There, he sat down on his seat as his suits sole Sacristan, Damion, prepared all of its systems. Which clicked one by one onto his suit. The feeling of control over his armor flowed through his veins more and more with each step completed, his knight ready in anticipation of the battle ahead. The very systems which made up the metal body like the veins that made up him. The many parts that made its construction familiar to him as if second nature, extensions of his very body and soul.

Finally it was time, for the last step; the donning of the Throne Mechanicum. A process that had long lost its fear, for Reginal had done it so many times, he even began to long for its touch. Slowly, it was donned over his head and over his face as his consciousness faded out into the machine. Within what felt like a blink, the machine roared to life, the cockpit was closed, and The Oathesworn began to move out of its hold. All of the sensors and visual data ran through Reginals mind as he moved himself forward. There was barely a difference between his own flesh and the machine now, as he felt every fiber of its being. He turned to see his court had all donned their suits, the empty Armigars left dormant on the other end of the bay. Locked into place by massive metal clamps. They had no bondsmen for which to fill, for they were the newest suits they had managed to produce, before their world was shattered. But it mattered not. In time, they too would find suitable pilots. Until then, he and his court would be more than enough to fulfill any task before them. Through his vox, he chanted.

"It is time, for House Valor to take to the stage of battle once more! For we will rain in force, and our enemies shall be bathed in their blood, we are House Valor, and their time has come! Come brothers, come sisters, it is time for us to bring the Emperors mercy, deliver our justice, and defend our oath to protect mankind!"

It was then, that the massive ships which were brought to carry them docked into the sides of the room. Their mighty doors opened to reveal empty slots for the knights to enter through, and so with vivid anticipation, Reginal and his knights marched with the triumphant pounds of their Knights, and loaded themselves onto each available craft. In total, there were thirty knights, all of whom had belonged to Reginals high court. Once, they were all rulers of their own territory within their world, but now they were all the knights that remained.

Reginal loaded alone, onto the last available transport, as the doors shut behind him. The chants and prayers of all the households' sacristans audible behind them. Reginals body pulsed with excitement, as it always did when he was within his armor. The Oathsworn had not seen combat for nearly two years, when his last quest had ended and he became High Lord. It grew impatient, and now was its chance to spill the blood of its enemies, in glorious combat once more.

Yet, the ride was more than dull as the transport ship detached with a loud click. It moved purposefully for hours, at the fasted speed it could yet muster, all the while Reginal was left in silence. The only surroundings those which The Oathsworns sensors could detect. The transport clearly a merchants vessel, repurposed to carry the weight of the Imperial Knights. Only a single railing along the high rise which ran along the length of the empty corridor, and to a small door at the end of the space. This vessel was less than worthy of The Oathsworns presence, but it was enough that it could deliver him to battle. And so he waited, the excitement in his heart outweighed all else.

On the planet's surface, the last remaining forces loyal to the Imperium were held up within the last city that was defendable. As an agri-world, there was little to no industrial or defensive structures in place, and so relied heavily upon the imports of weapons to maintain its PDF forces. The capital city of the planet, where the planetary governor once lived, damn his cowardice, was the only one which was protected efficiently. The rest of the world so sparse with enforcers that it was too easy for a cult to spread, with little to no resistance. The capital city protected by a large Void Field, which ran the length of its walls. The field powerful enough to protect all its inhabitants from the monstrosities that now prowled outside, the plague walkers unable to spread their filth. Unfortunately, it was poorly constructed and through the 'genius' of the governor who had it installed, its power source was located outside of the city limits. So as to cost less resources. Ha. Such foolishness was expected of many Planetary Governors, who seemed to forget about all of the troubles outside their world. Instead, they focused on how they could better their own worthless existence. Yet here he was now, crying and begging for mercy under the heel of Inquisitor Viola Vergis, as she pressed her heel tightly into the man's neck.

"It was truly incompetence which ruined this world. Yours. And now, all you can do is beg for release?"

The governor gasped for air. He had to find a way to breathe. But he was unable to move, the knives which pinned his arms and legs to the ground prevented him.

"It… wasn't my fault-these damned peasant-these peasants turned to the foul powers!"

Viola narrowed her eyes.

"Oh, then I suppose your greed for everything else blinded you from the clear signs? It began in small, easily ridden with sects, but from what I was told, you ignored all of these incursions. What was it? You were preoccupied with the market for _xeno_ technology?"

The man's eyes grew wide, but he said nothing. It was already too late. He was more than dead now. He was damned. Viola removed her heel from his throat and walked out to the doorway of the man's office. She looked once back at the pathetic figure before her, pinned onto the floor.

"You will be left here to rot while the remainder of this world's populace whom are _truly _loyal, shall be evacuated. Once we depart, perhaps I will order exterminates immediately, or mayhap I will hold off. For long enough that those inhuman mutants find you and you learn the true meaning of death. Until then, I do not expect to see you alive again."

With that she walked outside, where the two space marines within her retinue waited. They were of the Oath Marines chapter, a rather reclusive sect of the Emperors Angels. She had found them adrift in an empty escape pod, years and years ago. It seemed, they had once scouted a Space Hulk, when it unfortunately warped away from their ship. It was lucky she found them, otherwise, they wouldn't have survived. Besides, the benefits that they offered her were numerous.

One of them, Brother Eli, looked at her.

"That was wholly unnecessary and a brutal waste of time."

Viola shook her head, adamant in her decision.

"No. Such incompetence cost the lives of almost an entire world. He deserves suffering before his death."

The other Space Marine, Brother Emile, shook his head.

"You are so kind, for an Inquisitor, when it comes to the Emperor's people. Yet when it comes time to deal with 'heresy' you become quite sadistic. I must admit to you, I am terribly conflicted by your actions."

Viola sighed. These Space Marines were unlike many she had come across before, more willing to talk than to fight, and ready to die doing so as well. In some ways they were a breath of fresh air, but in others, they caused many problems when it came to her work of cleansing the filth before her. Still, she was far more open to them than most of her brethren would have been. The Oath Marines were not well liked within the bowls of the Inquisition, the few that knew them of course. But Viola saw much use in them and their practices. Every human life mattered, no matter where it was, and it was all so tragic when they died before they could be of use to the Imperium at large. If humanity was destined to rule these stars, then every human life mattered, at least to some extent, and she would be sure it was used properly.

Viola took a deep breath as they came to the balcony that overlooked the city. The Governors house was easily forty stories tall, and at the top of the tower like structure was the Void Shield generator. Below, all of the remaining loyal citizens stayed within the confines of the Governors compound. The remaining PDF forces stationed around the walls and besides the few vehicles that were afforded to them, four Leman Russes and a small dispatch of Tourox's, they had nothing else. That was why the news of an entire Knight House within the vicinity was nothing less than a gift by the Emperor himself. With them they could evacuate all of the civilians and PDF forces to the orbiting ship owned by the Knights. Though Knight Worlds were run in hierarchies, they all treated their people with respect and this assured her that the people here would be welcomed openly and integrated with little problem. They would still be of use. Especially given then likeness these people shared with Feudal worlds, as most worked on agriculture the length of their lives. The idea proposed by Eli, whom always had a systematic knowledge of every option he could fathom.

Eli held onto his bolter tightly.

"It is unfortunate that Nurgle was the one whom corrupted this world. Otherwise, perhaps the people of this world could have been rehabilitated..."

Viola closed her eyes.

"It astonishes me that you would say such a thing to an Inquisitor."

Eli chuckled, which sounded terrible through the Vox in in his helmet; like static grinded against metal.

"You are the most open Inquisitor I have ever met. I believe, you would be the only one openly welcomed in our chapter. You are still young, with so much to see, but still there is hope you have for the Imperium yet."

Viola bit her lip. She had yet to tell them the promise she made to the Lord of that Knight House. Not one Psyker would be allowed onto their ship, and in exchange all others would be afforded safety. Though she had ordered such things before, this time around, she felt an itch in her heart. Such things an Inquisitor had no need for-the sympathy of others. Still, these Oath Marines had affected her through their time as part of her retinue, and she knew they would not take such actions well.

She held onto the rails of the balcony.

"Eli, Emile, I must express to you something. Look down there. In the far left corner of the estate."

Eli and Emile obliged, and what they saw they did not like. Nearly forty people were lined against the wall, all of them of various ages. A small line of PDF soldiers before a group of them, rifles raised.

"Viola, what is the meaning of this?"

Viola took a deep breath. The Emperors work was never easy.

"Those people are all Psykers. The lord of the Knight House refused to take anyone, unless no Psyker would be allowed to enter. And you know full well, that I cannot accept any more psykers within my retinue, otherwise my colleagues would begin to grow suspicious and discover the other worlds which we redeemed. If they are killed here, then they won't suffer being left behind."

Eli shook his head as he breathed heavily underneath his helmet.

"Viola. You should have allowed one of us to speak to him. We can convince him the error in this. I refuse to let these people die."

Emile was much older than his brother, and he understood his anger. However, he was far more experienced with these dark matters. The cruelest lesson all Oath Marines had to accept, was that not everyone could be saved, not everyone could be reasoned with, and peace wasn't always won without violence.

"Eli. Think of this through the lens of the Knight House. They live on world's exempt of Psykers. How would their people react to such people entering into their society? It would not be rational, and likely they would be killed regardless in a witch hunt. We cannot deny them this request, because it is founded in reason. They are also completely adrift without a world to call their own. That means they are bound to space, and the more Psykers aboard a ship, the more likely demon incursions may occur. Viola chose the most painless option for these people."

Eli clenched his armored hand into a fist and slammed it onto the stone rail besides him, as it crumbled beneath him.

"But they are human too!"

Viola looked out to the sky as the merchant ships she requisitioned began their decent into the city. A single ship outside to the power source which fueled the Void Shield.

"I knew this would upset you. Both of you, but I am still an Inquisitor. I have to be able to make these decisions."

Emile walked up to Eli and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I know this is hard for you Eli. But we are but two marines, in a galaxy so strife with war that we cannot solve everything the way we would want."

Eli looked away.

"I understand, Brother."

Viola closed her eyes, when she suddenly recalled something.

"There was a feudal world not far from here… is there not?"

Emile turned to her.

"Yes. What are you thinking Viola?"

The soldiers below raised their rifles as the Psykers all stayed along the walls.

Viola frowned.

"Perhaps if I bargained more they wouldn't have had to die."

Eli then recalled what she meant. If the Knight House needed a world, certainly they could make a deal in exchange for taking on these Psykers!

"Emile, she is right. There is a feudal world near here which is would be more than fit for this Knight House to claim. We can still save these people, and do more good for the imperium at large. A knight house in this sector would be perfect!"

Viola smiled.

"Then, I suggest you get down there and save as many as you can. Before they are all shot."

The sound of las fire sprang through the air, as below them twenty of the Psykers in the firing line were nothing more than stain on the wall behind them. Eli sprang to action quickly, as he rushed to the nearest lift, to get down the nearly forty floors, determined to save as many lives as possible. Emile only frowned behind his mask as he watched his Brother disappear into the confines of the tower. He was wise enough to understand Violas true intentions.

"Thank you for that. I know you planned on offering that world to the Knight House regardless. I'm sure even you know the benefits a Knight World on the far western fringe of the Imperium would do."

Viola straigtened her back, rolling her shoulders as she watched the transport ships.

"This is the very edge of the Imperium, the frontier. One of the farthest places away from the mayhem of the Imperium at large. Yet, that also means the peoples of this frontier are often forgotten about. That is why. But, I am sure you know that Eli needed a harsh dose of reality. So this will be a good lesson."

Emile stood beside her as he looked out at the world below through his helmet.

"I'm sure it will. But at least here, there is at some hope. Lest we manage to survive the oncoming incursion before us."

Viola nodded as she peered out at the gates of the city, where the walls began to crumble. Though the Void Shields managed to keep the majority of the corrupt forces outside, she knew that for the ships big enough to carry the people out, the generator would have to open at least momentarily. And in that moment, hell would be set upon them.

"Well, there is no use standing here. We give word that the operation is to begin at once!"

Emile nodded.

"Of course."

They both stared as the transports for the Knights finally landed and dropped of their cargo, the hulking behemoths both awe inspiring and a terrifying presence as they clambered out. The single transport that landed by the power source revealed the largest of all of them, with blaze heraldry covered in silver and white. Yet only one single Knight stepped out of that transport, and Viola grew worried because of it. That was the most important asset after all.

That Knight was High Lord Reginal, as he convinced his pilot to drop him off at that point. His fellows contacted him through his vox, however, he dissuaded any help. He alone would do this, as a symbol to all the terror of his household. Of course, in reality he knew that the most dangerous of all the locations for drop off was the power source. A large electrical cogitator surrounded by various metallic towers that strutted out like spires. Rested atop a small hill, with little but the small facility besides the electric spires. Hardly defensible. He knew that the might of the Knights was great, but they were not infallible. He was the strongest of his house, and he could defend it as well as ten knights, so he would hold out the longest.

The great doors of the transport opened up and light from the outside flooded the open corridor. The Oathsworn pulsed with excitement as he pushed its metal body out into the world before him. The dark color of its body stuck out in stark contrast to the world around, not used to such an environment so full of light. House Valor was special in that they primarily practiced battles within the dark, when most combatants would be at their weakest. So, they had simple color schemes on their knights painted primarily black and white colors so as to blend into the darkness. However, in the day and in the light, they welcomed challenge to come for them, and the black color of their armor made it clear as to where they were. His plasma cavalier was ready to go, the automated firing systems atop his chassis ready for the coming battle. He maneuvered the Knight so that is stood besides the building that housed the controls for the cogitator. From there, he only looked out into the fields that surrounded the city. A hoard of mutants beat outside the main gate, surrounded by the various Daemons of Nurgle. Several vehicles overcome with rot and putrid tentacles swarmed alongside them; the tainted remains of tanks, their crew no doubt long since forcefully merged inside. As the horde noticed his presence, many of them began their march towards him, and he stood ready. The transport took off soon after and made its way back towards the city, where it would begin the transport of civilians back to their ship.

The Oathesworn raised its primary weapons and soon, they were alight with the fire of plasma and judgment. His cannons fired in full force, and away from him the oncoming hoard was blasted by the hundreds. Thousands of bodies flew into the air from the strike of his autocannons, the plasma evaporated even more of them as their bodies burned into nothing.

A tank began its advance towards him and began to fire, but it was no use as a shell was caught by quick timing. Reginal moved so that his Ion Shield would slow it to a harmless crawl. A plasma bolt fired directly into its hull in response, and within moments, exploded into nothing but ash. Simply trotted over by the mutants who continued their run towards him.

This continued, and The Oathsworn was happy, content in its slaughter of the filth before it. The excitement dissuaded any and all tinges of fear, as he focused solely on the battle before him. This was natural to him, a feeling he had longed for since the last time he had been within his Knight. On this day he would make his father proud, still a ghost within the confines of this titan. Always there by his side to guide him forward.

The Void Shield around the city soon opened for just a moment, as a single cruiser landed in the center of the citer, besides the Governors tower. This was the transport vessel that would evacuate most of the civilians and PDF forces. But it was too large to bypass the Void shield while it was active, and so had to be momentarily shut off. This was more than enough time for a large force of the oncoming servants of Nurgle to infiltrate the walls of the city, and into the hunting ground of his knights. May the Emperor be with them, he thought as he continued to decimate all the filth that approached him.

Within the walls of the city, all of the other Knights of House Valor, which were either Castellen or Paladin class, waited for the enemy forces which managed to slip within the moment the shield opened. When it did, all of the Knights opened fire with their massive weapons as the enemy forces ran headlong towards them. The sound of explosions and the fire of various weapons became all that was heard amongst the city, in a deafening mesh of war. The cries of the PDF and those within the confines of the Governors estate drowned out as they were pushed forward onto the cruiser. To be ferried out of their home, and into space. The PDF forces strung at the wall around the governors estate, with the will of the Imperial Guard despite the enemy that faced them.

Viola and Emile thought highly of these PDF forces, and as they stood within the estates courtyard, they were both wary of the battle outside. Many of these soldiers were the second generation of the guardsmen who colonized this world. But that was still not the same as being guardsmen. They were disciplined, and held their ranks, something woefully uncommon among many worlds, but still they had been in the comfort of a frontier world away from the brunt of the Imperium's problems.

Neither had heard from Eli either and both became worried that something had happened. However, they also knew they had to remain focused. Hundreds of civilians before them pushed forward into the many gaping doors onto the ship. Guards at every door to ensure no taint was allowed within. So far it moved along smoothly, and it seemed the Knights held off perfectly well. Much to the relief of Viola who was still on edge, as there was rarely a decisive victory in her experience. A PDF soldier from atop the wall cried down to them, a crack in his voice as the poor bastard attempted to stay sane.

"The Knights have taken care of the majority of the enemy forces lady Inquisitor! However there are a few which have broken past the main defense line."

Emile held up his bolter.

"Do no fear soldier. I shall not let them pass!"

He turned to Viola, who raised her own arch-pistol. An heirloom from an inquisitor she found deceased long ago. Emile had traveled long enough with her to know she intended on fighting with him, and rather than argue, he knew she was capable enough to hold her own. So he allowed her to follow as he made his way to the main gate of the governor's estate, where a dozen PDF soldiers stood. Las rifles in hand as they anxiously watched the metal doors. The two soldiers on the wall above began to fire.

"Here they come lads! Give em' the Emperor's mercy!"

The doors began to slam as the barricades placed along them shifted. Slowly but surely, it was bound to open, and as soon as a small crack opened, out came several nurglings, small daemons that looked a lot like grots, but far more ugly and covered in puss.

The nurglings smiled joyously as they raced towards the soldiers, arms open for embrace. A single bolter round was all that was required to dispatch them however. Emile showed his inhuman speed and fired in quick succession. From outside the hands of the mutated clawed through the gaping hole as the PDF slowly lost nerve. Viola fired her pistol into the air.

"Don't lose heart men! We will survive this, but only if you stay calm! Remember those still alive, those who we shall rescue on this day! We will not die, not here. By the Emperors mercy we will survive! Else I will be sure to extend it for you!"

The soldiers calmed, if only barely, and she knew it was only a temporary fix. To stand in the face of such horrors was not easy, especially for those whom never had to face them before. From outside, one of the Knights walked along the wall as they fired into the small hoard of mutants that clambered at the gate. Within seconds all that remained was blood and pieces, as it showered their remains in all directions. The PDF however were all too awestruck by these machines, and even Viola found herself motivated by ones mere presence. Though she had understood and known about the Knights, she never actually had the chance to see one, at least so close.

Emile only pushed on as he slammed the gate back shut with a charge from his shoulder

"We cannot let these gates fall! Hurry!"

The PDF snapped out of their stupor and rushed to help shut the door. Viola on the other hand looked to see a worrying amount of civilians left. Had she mis-calculated? At this rate, the ship would need two trips, and this was already as dangerous as it was. She had done the numbers within her head, and she knew well enough that they should have all been able to fit. Even if it was pressed shoulder to bloody shoulder. So what took them so long to load everyone? She didn't know, but she was going to.

So she made her way towards the ship, past civilians who moved out of her way, afraid of the aura that purveyed her, and towards the front of the crowd. The sounds of the fight outside as loud as ever, but the shield above them as strong as before, at the very least. So long as that single Knight outside the walls could hold out, they had a chance.

That single Knight by the power source did more than hold out. It thrived. The hill that surrounded it and the power source all but coated in the remains of the heretic. The smoldering hulls of nearly a hundred vehicles already along the hills base, and those were but the ones which had not been disintegrated into nothingness. But Reginal knew, there would eventually be even more than he and his knight could overcome. Still, he would not move. The Oathbreaker had its honor to uphold, and a name that it needed to live up to. He had committed himself to this post, and he would die before he broke that vow.

With a reflex, he supercharged his plasma cannon, and sprayed it forward all around the base of the hill, as the mutants all but faded away, the ground seared and molten. His autocannons alight with the fire of shells they unloaded everywhere in the distance. The Seigbreaker missile atop his chassis yet to be fired, as he waited for a worthy opponent to dedicate it to. The hill was surrounded very quickly however, after each wave, and more corrupted vehicles began their approach towards him. The hoard around the city and himself sure to grow much larger within the hour.

Though as hard as he tried, the hill became more, and more covered in the filth of nurgle. He fired, and as they approached him he stomped them into nothing, but he was being overrun. He opened up a vox to his favored knight, Lord Varus.

"My friend, I am being overrun and I cannot hold out forever."

Varus was quick to respond.

"I heard you high lord. I will gather the others and—"

Reginal stomped on another group of mutants as they attempted to reach the facility.

"No! You are not to leave those walls behind. I shall do all I can here, but your duty is to those within."

"Lord Reginal! You may very well die out there—"

The Oathbreaker brought to bear his plasma as he blasted a small group of tanks besides the hill.

"Yes, I very well may, but I will have upheld my oath! I expect you to do the same. And if I perish, I wish you to know that I want our house to prosper. We_ shall_ prosper. Whether I am there or not, maintain our house!"

Varus remained silent for all but a moment, but the sadness he felt was not lost on Reginal. Varnus then replied.

"I shall. But I wish that not to befall you today—"

A new vox channel opened, as an old and gruff voice boomed,

"And today it shall not!"

From the sky came another transport as a silver knight jumped down from the open doors behind it. It fell down onto the side of the hill with a mighty crash, splashing an entire wave of mutants away. There it used its massive hand to swipe away entire swathes of mutants. The heraldry above its chest of a wolf, the words 'Canis Rex' embroidered besides them. Reginal took this opportunity and began to fire at the other end of the hill. The vox still open with this new arrival, a freeblade from the looks of it, in a Preceptor class knight.

"From what house do you hail?"

The other knight responded in kind.

"I am Sir Hektor. The last of my house, now naught but a freeblade. I have come to your assistance on this day, ready to aide a fellow Knight in the battle against the ruinous powers."

Reginal fired his Volcano Lance as it sliced through a wave of mangled trucks that mutant's road aboard. The ground beneath soon nothing but red sludge.

"I thank you Sir Hektor. Your timing could not have been more perfect. Truly, a blessing from the Emperor himself."

Sir Hektor moved his Knight, Canis Rex, into position behind Reginal and placed himself back to back with a loud metal clang. From here on, they would stand side by side, dependent on the other, for if one fell, the other would certainly fall soon after. With his Las Impuslor, he targeted the nearby wave of daemons that stepped forward and fired a heated ball of plasma that tore through the huddled mass, nothing but the gore of remains and the smell of charred flesh remained. The once vibrant hill they fought upon torn into the mud of war, its life removed in place of craters and barren rock. Blood and mudd. Yet the warriors did not care, for they had a battle to be fought, and their lives at stake.

Sir Hektor swiped away a large mutant with his iron hand, as they splattered against the walls of the facility.

"Let us dispatch these monsters, shall we?"

Reginals autocannons fired at the mass of nurglings below him that sung the hymns of their accursed lord, and ripped them into fragments.

"Indeed."


	2. Chapter 2

**The **two valiant knights soon reclaimed the hill for their own, but the hoard would soon reach them if the mission was not completed immediately. Still, they held to their belief in something greater, in the oaths they made that brought them here. For them, it was enough to keep fighting. Not everyone could be so honorable however, as even in such dark times people would take advantage. Inquisitor Viola knew this well, far too well. The backed up line of civilians a problem that should not have occurred on an empty vessel brought specifically to take them into orbit. No, she knew she had done the calculations, and this was wrong. Her angry fears confirmed as she reached the front to see several of the open doorways held off by a small group of PDF soldiers. They pushed people back, their weapons held as if ready to use them. A wagon full of the treasures from within the Governors tower loaded to the brim as they tried to push it onto the ship. This was nothing more than gluttony, a sin she would not let go unpunished.

She raised her arch-pistol into the air and fired as the crowd of civilians backed away from her. The PDF soldiers who thought they could escape with pointless goods also stared, but instead of stopping, they opted to continue instead. Viola was not pleased.

"So, this is the greed of brigands who decide that treasure is worth more than the lives of their common fellows. This is the thought of those traitors whom now besiege this very city, and drive us to the brink of demise."

One of the soldiers stepped towards her.

"I don't give a cuckoos arse what you say. We all agreed here, that we would leave this damned place with nothing! We worked tirelessly under that tyrant, and now that the worlds gone to hell, we are taking our due. Besides, them big machines outside got it covered I'm sure. They can wait."

Viola frowned. Clearly, there was no sense in talking to these fools. She would have to make sure the civilians got on board herself then. As for these traitors, she would make sure they got their due. With a single swing of her arm she raised her Arch-Pistol faster than the soldiers could arm themselves, and fired three bolts. The heads of three of the soldiers exploded with a pop of blood, bone and organ. Their bodies lay limp onto the cold ground, lifeless, and without sanctity. The soldiers who pushed on the cart cowered away as it fell to the side, its contents of gold plated goods of all kinds, spilled out with it.

Viola walked towards them.

"There's your due. Now, if I must say this, I shall. Anyone who values such trinkets over your own lives may attempt to grab any piece of it. Be warned, the first attempt will be met with the removal of your head, and the damnation of treason! Otherwise, I expect all of you, to get on the damned ship!"

The crowd only stared at her as they collectively whimpered. The people of this world were not afforded many luxuries, and many were kept within a vacuum, ignorant of the reality in which they lived. Perhaps it was this that lead to this fiasco, but at the expense of lives that fought terrors beyond their imagination just outside those walls. This, in her mind, called for a very direct approach. If they would not help themselves, she would make damn sure they lived to become productive members of the Imperium-or she would punish them for their insolence.

"I said move. Immediately!"

The crowd kicked to life, as the loading of the civilians started once more in full gear. They proceeded in an orderly fashion up the ramps and into the bowels of the ship where the others waited within the emptied hanger decks and corridors. At this rate, they would completely load onto the ship by midday. And then, the Knights could be picked up within the safety of the void shields, and returned to their ship. Thus, this battle would be won. Her own retinue however would have trouble getting her and her Marines, thus she would need to take a transport with one of the Knights. Besides, it would be unfriendly of her to not meet those who answered their call. For now however, all she could do was watch over the crowd of people whom once she would have abandoned to their fate, as they march into the ships gaping doors. The thought of her companions, Eli and Emile and where they were a sudden cross along her mind. But, they could take care of themselves, after all, they were Space Marines.

Emile was in his element. Though he wasn't accustomed to the all out, no hands barred, execution of the enemy, he knew how to wield his weapon effectively. No shot was wasted, each calculated and precise. He did not linger in any one spot for long and kept his distance from the encroaching monsters. The Oath Marines were trained thusly in the art of non-lethal tactics, and constantly sought to redeem than to condemn, but this battle brought back memories to Emile of the day he learned the harsh truth that he wanted Eli now to see. It was also when he had to fight the fowl constructs of Nurgle.

There was little time for reminiscence however, as he was beset by a small band of nurglings who managed to crawl over the wall. Though not nearly as dangerous as their brethren, the nurglings were toxic to the touch and they oozed corrosive poison wherever they went. In enough numbers, they would swarm their opponent and in a matter of moments, nothing but a rotted or mutated corpse would be left behind, reanimated to serve the whims of their master.

He rose his bolter and fired directly into the swarm, first at the ones along the sides, so that they would not encircle him, and then the ones closest towards him as he moved back from one point to another. The support from the PDF around him a welcomed one as they fired their las rifles into the swarm, slowly but surely ripping the persistent monsters to tatters. This was not enough to prevent any of the PDF from being killed, as several along the walls were pushed off to their death by the many nurglings that climbed them. Which in turn piled over the bodies, to rise them once more into blighted corpses with a deformed yellow color that only shambled forward. This was more than enough to unnerve the soldiers, and they began to lose their calm. A death sentence in any battlefield. Especially in the face of this chaos.

It was up to Emile to maintain their morale.

"Do not mourn the dead, not yet, not now. Stay here and strong for the living, for we can only mourn those gone while we are alive. I stand with you, the Imperial Knights stand by you, and we will not falter! Neither shall you. Now stand strong and band together."

The soldiers took to him like insects to flame, and soon enough they rallied around him. Though Emile knew, as all the Oath Marines did, Space Marines were naught but human. Only because of the augmentations that had been done to their bodies, most would see them as something more. Something to be feared, but also something to be respected and looked upon with reverence. Emile disliked this notion, always had, but he did not deny the usefulness it offered him and his kin. Especially when he had to fight alongside the citizens of the Imperium. Here, it was no different.

He held his bolter tightly to his chest as he pulled it to bear at the shambling corpses of former PDF soldiers, and shot. Each round hit their mark, and each did their intended job as they dismembered their targets. A burst of puss and corrupted flesh that left no identifier of what was before. He had to eliminate these shambling corpses first, so as to maintain the PDF's hold on their sanity.

"Do not let them surround you. Stand close besides one another, and make each shot count."

The PDF obliged him, and they proceeded to form into small circles that fired at the nurglings and corpses. Though they managed to maintain their incursions for now, he knew that the longer any engagement took, the likelier that a complication would occur. With their current forces, it would most certainly be fatal here. While the Void shield was up, though he did not wish to acknowledge the possibility, if the knights protecting the power source fell, they would be submerged in a wave of the daemons, never to surface again. The thought of Brother Eli ran through his mind. He had not seen him since the tower, and he feared that he may have fallen already. Though his mind swayed him back to the task at hand. In combat, one did not worry. For those that worried were already dead.

Eli also knew this of course, and he was one of the brightest of all of the scouts that the Reasonable Marine Chapter had ever seen. Still, he was still a young man beneath his status as a Space Marine, and one that cared heavily for the civilians that he encountered. He had a stark belief, a hope for the Imperium at large, that it would rise to be the power it deserved. Overcome the adversity that plagued it, and reclaim its former glory. The increasing strain of the conflicts he participated in however, did not maintain his hopeful spirit as he saw such brutality from not only those outside of mankind, but also from within. The sounds of battle were familiar to him, but this day, something was different. He wanted to prove not everything was in vain, and he was going to start with the psykers marked for death. Unfortunately he was unpleased as he saw what he had come across. All but one of the psykers remained alive, the PDF soldiers sent to kill them massacred by a small band of yellow creatures that oozed yellow slime from their skin, their eyes deformed and twisted as they popped out of their rotten flesh. Their size diminutive compared to Eli, only up to his knees. A young girl nearly limp besides the wall as she pushed herself back with her legs.

Blood streamed from her eyes as they bleed profusely.

"Get away… Get away! Please! I won't listen… I won't!"

The girl weakly held onto her head, and this was a sign that something spoke to her. Something dark and twisted. Eli raised his bolter as he eliminated all the creatures in the vicinity. None of them had anticipated the attack, unaware of his presence, splattered into paste by the shells of his bolter. With the last one gone, Eli ran to the girl and stood in front of her. She wept to herself as she pressed hard onto her head.

"I want it to stop…"

She turned to face him, as if she felt his presence. Again she cowered back, all too aware of the slaughter that befell the other Psykers. She only expected a round through the skull, a fate she was not willing to accept.

"No! Please, I don't want to die. Not like the rest... Please! I beg you…"

She fell forward, her body clearly tired and unable to maintain itself. It was clear she hadn't eaten in days. The treatment of Psykers was rarely good after all. And now a Space Marine, one of the Emperors Angels of Death. Stood before her. It was certainly her time, or so she thought. Much to her surprise Eli lowered his bolter and looked at her. Amazed at the contradiction before her, the girl looked up.

"What…?"

Eli knelt beside her, and tore a small piece of the ceremonial cloth which hung from his side. With unprecedented precision, he managed to wrap it around her head, over her bleeding eyes which crusted up. It was not the Reasonable Marine way to doubt the goodness in others, and though he was unable to save more, he would do all he could to save this one girl. Whether he had to fight the Knights himself after this was over, he would fulfill this task.

The girl only laid into his metal chest as he picked her up, his bolter strapped to his side. She was light, even though he could lift far more than the normal human, she barely registered as weight to him. In her eyes Eli was nothing less than an angel, sent to deliver her from suffering. The one image of a reaper she imagined, morphed into something else.

She feeble turned to face him, though with the cloth over her head did not see.

"Are you… an Angel…?"

Eli remained quiet for a moment as he watched more of the creatures crawl down from above the wall. This was to prove to himself that human life was not so easily wasted, that there was hope in his chapter's bright ideals.

"No. I am not but a man, who has chosen to save your life."

The girl only looked at him, before she passed out, her body barely able to go on. The creatures would not stop to wait for him, and so Eli rushed away with her in his arms, towards the front courtyard where the others surely were. The battle outside the walls clearly fierce, though subtly more and more subdued as the explosions became less apparent. What this meant, Eli did not know, but he pushed on regardless.

Across the walls, the battle had actually gone entirely in the Imperium's favor. Not one of the thirty knights had fallen, and almost every single mutant, daemon or monstrosity which had entered was eradicated. Though this did not mean their suits were undamaged, as many clearly were, some more than others, but all of them remained in working order. The void shield still at full capacity, as it blazed all around the city. Those outside with bated anticipation for it to fall. All of the Knights with their duty upheld, formed around the perimeter of the Governors estate, and looked outward. They eliminated any stragglers they found, but remained still in their positions, ready to protect the civilians if the chaotic forces encroached once more. But all of them held a firm belief in their High Lord; that he would succeed, and they would all escape alive, glory abound to all of them.

Outside the shields, Reginal and Sir Hektor did just that, as they fought off the never ending waves that challenged them, only to push them back. Their machines in as good condition as before they entered the fray, and shined like the beacons they were within the sun.

But, off in the distance, came a sight which enraged the two knights. Something that all knights had sworn to never leave unpunished, and something that was required to be put down immediately. Its massive metal feet stomped through its fellow abhorrents, and made its way to the center of the vile swarm. A sight that bolstered its own forces, as it dripped in acid. This was a Chaos Knight, its once noble form broken and shattered, with a green moss that surrounded the topside of the chassis. Large tentacles protruded from its right arm, and flailed about aimlessly, an old and rustic chain sword in its other arm, overtaken by large green vines that oozed a yellow substance in scathes. Its face ruptured and cracked, the metal clearly beyond its years. Dressed in dark green and yellow, all of its heraldry was covered or removed entirely, replaced with the mutated gifts of Nurgle. From what house it hailed was unknown, but this did not matter to either of the two noble knights who watched it. Especially Reginald, as a High Lord and a champion of humanity.

"An abomination and a scar among all Knight houses! Sir Hektor, we cannot allow this traitor to live."

Sir Hektor vehemently agreed, but as he watched the knight he understood what it intended to do. Though it pained him, he would not move.

"Lord Reginal, I agree, but it expected this of us. Why has it not yet come for us? It waits, the coward, for us to maintain our oath and charge it. It expects us to combat it, and leave the power source undefended. We cannot allow this power source to fall."

Reginal leveled his volcano lance in the heretic knight's direction.

"Do not worry. We shall not let this fall. But, we cannot allow such a monstrosity to exist either."

His Knight turned to face the direction of the Chaos Knight and activated his shield breaker missile, which he kept for just this moment and fired it. With a loud screech the missile flew through the air, and sped towards the chaotic knight. Though it was quick to see it, the knight was far too slow because of the mutations that hindered it and was hit directly by the missile. A single explosion racked it in a cloud of smoke as bits of armor and corrupted constructions flew all around it. It was clear this knight lost the use of its Ion shield long ago, but Reginal knew that even a sheildbeaker missile would not be enough to completely down such a traitor. What he banked on was the pride he hoped the heretic still had, and this paid off. The Chaos Knight survived the blast, as vines and the putrid moss moved to replace the pieces that were forcibly removed. It refused to take such an insult as a long ranged attack without retribution.

It began to move, and soon came to a steady run as the Heretic knight pushed all in its way aside. The reaper chainsword revved as black smog oozed outside its exhausts, the tentacles on its other side sharpened themselves into a single spike.

Both Reginal and Hektor turned to face their new opponent. Reginal fired everything he had at the knight, even his automated firing systems. Each shot landed as the chaotic knight blew slowly into more and more pieces, but it did not stop its rampage. Hektor was quick to stand in the way of Reginal and the traitor, as he overcharged his lasimpulsor. Of all the enemies of the Imperium, those that he hated the most were the Imperial Knights who fell to chaos. It was a horrid fate that he knew was forcibly pushed upon many of them, much like those of his own household who were corrupted. He made a promise that day he escaped, to find a battle he could win for the Imperium, and that he would not let any Knight suffer the corruption of Chaos. And those he did find, he would put to rest.

The Chaos Knight grew close, and swung its chainsword at Hektor, but he managed to catch it with his knight's clawed hand. Though the blades still punctured into his armor, and pushed deep into the palm of his knight's hand. Physical pain surged through his body, the knights pain his own. He refused to let this stall him, slammed his las impulsor into the heretics chest plate, right beside the head joint, and fired. A single stream of plasma exploded through the other side as the Heretic fell backward, its massive body crushing the bodies of the many mutants beneath it. Hekor quickly stepped out of the way of Sir Reginal.

"Now lord Reginal! Do not leave a trace of its form left!"

Reginal moved all of his knight's weapons to bare, and within moments, they fired consecutively at least six times each, the strain on his knight's power source enormous as the traitors armor was torn asunder. Ripped piece by piece until nothing but scraps remained, and even those, were to be atomized by Hektor who turned all of it to ash with his impulsor. The tide of enemies did not stop however, as the mutants continued their push. In the end, the traitor succeeded in severely weakening the two noble knights who now were both damaged and in need of repair, the ammunition and charge of their weapons nearly exhausted. Still, both acknowledged this fact, and pushed on. Without another word they returned to fighting those around them, and maintained their oaths. They would stop when either they died, or their duty was done.

Thankfully the last of the civilians had been loaded at that moment, and the cruiser began its ascent into the sky. The Knights too had begun to load themselves into the transports, as they were ferried away. The remaining PDF forces loaded onto the cruiser last, and only Emile and Viola remained in the courtyard. Bodies, blood and the ruins of several sections of wall all around them. The vehicles that survived the attacks left behind, strewn about the courtyard.

Viola looked at Emile.

"It seems we've done it again."

Emile checked his bolter.

"Not a moment too soon. It seems I have exhausted all but a single round."

Viola looked towards the now busted gates.

"I wonder if Eli had survived…"

Emile also worried of his young companion, though he held out hope he would return soon. Still, the city would soon be abandoned. If he did not show up soon, they could only assume the worst.

The transport that Viola had requested for herself then flew down beside them, its back doors opened to reveal the Voidsmen in her service. Former members of the Tallern variant of Guardsmen. They raised their las rifles high and were watchful as the commander in her service, Commander Richell, saluted her with a hand over her chest.

"Lady Inquisitor! We are here for pick up. I suggest we quickly board before the shields are lowered."

Both Emile and Viola began their walk to the ship, both in quiet acknowledgment that their compatriot was gone. Yet, they were not surprised when they heard his voice from behind them. They turned to see his bulking frame run towards them, bolter in one hand, and a young girl in the other.

"Hold on! I have arrived!"

Viola bit her lip as she didn't expect a single Psyker to survive, but she could not back out of her promise to him now. Emile knew this as well, and though he was happy to see his fellow brother alive, he worried the effects that the girl he carried would have. The bandage over her eyes a bad sign still, but they could not hold on to debate here. Eli made it to them in little time, and though none of them spoke another word, the animosity of the situation was clear to all of them. They walked onto the transport. Richell stood aside as her guardsmen stepped in line and held up their las rifles. Viola hung onto the metal railing as the transport began its ascent, the doors closing. Then she saw outside, the two knights still besides the power source, as they were increasingly surrounded by the monsters around them.

Quickly she rushed past the others and made it through the hallowed corridor of the transport up the furthest ladder and onto the catwalk above. Her techpreist, Magos Verdun, slinked in the corner, and busied himself with the repairs of the ship as he interfaced with its machine spirit. He payed little mind to her and she him, as she walked by. It wasn't long before she made it to the pilot's deck, the only other room besides the cargo area outside.

The pilot was clearly nervous and had not taken well to this situation at all. But she had a debt to repay and the two knights outside had to be recovered, so she held onto the pilots shoulder firmly so as to dissuade any objections that might come.

"Make your way to the Power Cogitator. We are going to make an emergency pick up."  
The Pilot tensed up as he swallowed the reply he was going to give with a single glance from the Inquisitor before him.

"Y-Yes Lady Inquisitor."

The ship took a sharp turn as she watched from the screen that displayed the outside, the scene of the two knights battling the horde before them. Admiration not quite the right word for how she viewed them. She came to respect these Knights highly because of this battle and their willingness to come to the aide of those who may would have deemed not worth the effort. She would make sure they survived to continue their work.

Outside, the roar of the void shield as it opened broke the combat around the city. Reginal and Hektor were relieved to know they succeeded, and both recognized the many ships that flew away from them and into space. But, none seemed to come back for them.

"This may be the end, Lord Reginal. It was an honor to fight besides you. I can die peacefully knowing I helped lead a battle to victory."

Reginals automated systems continued to fire, though their ammunition supplies had long since depleted. He too was also happy however, for he maintained his suits name and its honor.

"Thank you, Sir Hektor. I would have fallen much sooner had it not been for you. You have forever gained my respect, and I am sure the Emperor will look kindly upon us both."

Sir Hektor laughed very slightly, solemn in his resolve.

"It would appear so. So what say you, lord Reginal? Will you fight with me to the end?"

Reginal fired his volcano lance into a line of mutated vehicles besides the Cogictator facility.

"I would gladly lay down my life with you."

Both of the knights stood side by side as the monsters around them advanced in suicidal charges, one after the other. The Knights, both pilot and Machine Spirit content in what they felt was their fate. Reginal then thought once more on Sir Hektor, who although he had just met, had his eternal respect and gratitude. The life of a freeblade was a difficult one, and he knew that Sir Hektor must have suffered much as one.

"Sir Hektor. I know that you are a freeblade. Away from your house for some reason I will not assume, but you have earned the right to be called a hero. I as the High Lord of House Valor, would be more than happy to allow you admittance into our house. What say you, Lord Hektor? Will you join House Valor, as a nobleman and as a good friend?"

Sir Hektor was silent for a moment, and reminisced about his home. Destroyed and overtaken by the forces of Chaos. He never expected to be set adrift within space, but he vowed to find a battle he could help win. And so he has, in many worlds. But here, he found those who were like him. Their home gone, adrift, yet still ready to support the Imperium where they could. It had been a long time since he had left his world to its fate, but now he had a chance to be welcomed into another. If they survived this, he could do much good and support those who have lost their home and return their house back to glory. A fitting repentance for the fall of his house.

"I would be honored, Lord Reginal, if you would accept me within your house."

Reginal smiled, though it was not apparent to anyone but him.

"Then I, High Lord Reginal the IV, hereby declare that you Sir Hektor are welcomed into House Valor, as Lord Hektor. You are given the title of Baron, and are allowed all the privileges of any noble befitting those in House Valor. I welcome you my friend, even if this is our last moments."

Lord Hektor smashed a small tank underneath his metal foot.

"I will be sure to serve you faithfully, High Lord Reginal."

It was then, that the sounds of the transport above them registered on their sensors, and hope filled their hearts. The transport landed just besides the facility, and broke through several floors on its left side. The huge metal doors swung open as a small squad of guardsmen and two Space Marines stood on the sides, and fired at all the mutants that came close. The Inquisitor on the Catwalk above as she waved at them.

"Get your arses in here, now!"

Reginal made his way in front of the transports doors.

"Lord Hektor, load on first! I will hold them off long enough and will follow behind."

Hektor knew he wasn't in the right place to dispute and obliged. Reginal fired closely around him, and kept the enemy forces at bay while Lord Hektor made his way into the transport. Once he was secure, Reginal stepped back, one foot at a time and maintained a constant stream of fire at the tide before him, until it was that he stepped into the transport, the metal doors began to close. Somehow, he survived this ordeal, and made a lifelong friend in the process. The guardsmen and the Space Marines below kept firing until the doors finally sealed shut, and only the red alarm lights gave any illumination to the entire space. All of the forces below worked tirelessly to scour the entire ship in an effort to make sure the entire vessel was free of corruption. Viola rested on the side of the Catwalk and looked at the two massive Knights as they rested besides one another, their bodies nearly took up the entire space of the corridor. Though another Knight could have probably fit if needed be, she was glad they managed to make it in time. Of course, she was more curious to see just who the pilots were. Especially the new arrival, who she was informed had come from a separate ship that now orbited the planet.

She walked towards the open section of the Catwalk that led to the top of the knight, and waited. Her Techpriest however, could hardly contain himself as he rushed past her, and stood before the mighty titans. To him, it must have been an amazing sight, the likes of which few actually see in their service if they weren't part of the forgeworlds which produced them. Verdun bowed, his head as his several servo arms held themselves back.

"Praise the omnisiah! That I can see such magnificence before mine eyes. The Machine spirit within these holy titans are fearsome. Even now I feel their presence."

Viola walked besides him.

"Excuse me, Verdun, but these are our guests. Please do not do something that would upset them."

Verdun turned to face her, and through the mess of metal and green glowing orbs he called eyes, she could almost see a frown.

"Lady Inquisitor, do not deny me this sight or dispute mine abilities. I would never dare harm such a machine or those whom pilot it. By will of the omnisiah, I have always researched these glorious mechanisms, but only now do I not only see them in battle, but one right before me as well."

Viola frowned herself.

"Well, is this why you decided to come down here? Didn't I tell you to remain on the Crusader King?"

Verdun hissed as his mechanisms moved underneath his red robes.

"Do not test me, Inquisitor. Few can resist the inquiry that is common among all Techpriest's when it comes to the grand machines of the Omnisiah."

From the first Knight, the one that had the most guns on its chassis, with a stark white, silver and black scheme, rung out as its pilot spoke.

"I am High Lord Reginal of House Valor. It is nice to meet you in person, Inquisitor. This is Lord Hektor, who has just recent joined our house. We do require a Techpriest to perform the rights of removal, so that we may exit our armor. If your tech priest has been trained in such tradition."

Verdun's servo arms shot to action as he bowed.

"I have studied long the traditions and rituals associated with the Imperial Knights. Trust me, I am more than adequate to perform these rights, and I would be honored if you allow me."

The Knight responded swiftly.

"Very well, you may begin."

At that, the Techpriest set to work as he moved his way to the top of the first Knight and began to interface with its machine Spirit through one of the ports on its hull. Viola had no desire to sit through such ritual and decided she would best see if they had escaped the surface yet, and then order the exterminatus.

While that was taken care of, Reginal finally opened up the vox transmission that was frantically sent by Varus. What followed was a loud sigh of relief.

"High Lord! You yet live. I am glad to know you are good and well."

Reginal smiled.

"Yes, so am I. At least now I can continue my service to House Valor."

Varus took a deep breath.

"I am proud to report that every knight survived the battle, and only several received major damage. It was a successful endeavor all in all. Currently, myself and the other nobles are preparing for the arrival of our new subjects. Of course, we will be sure to scan them thoroughly of any disease, and our knights have gone under intensive cleaning since our arrival back on the ship."

Reginal was proud of his court, for they truly did exemplary work in the gaze of the Emperor on this day.

"That is good. I am proud in all of us. Continue the good work Varus. And I must also report that the freeblade who had helped me in battle has decided to join our house. I have already accepted him within our ranks."

Varus seemed taken back at first, but he knew full and well the valor that the Freeblade had shown when they rushed to his lords aide. Still, such an honor was one he would make sure the Freeblade would not waste.

"I am sure he will be a welcomed addition to our ranks, High Lord."

Reginal knew his decision to invite a freeblade from another house could cause conflict, but he would never revoke his word once given. Regardless, Lord Hektor offered something that was vital to the continuation of any Noble House.

"He is a Knight Preceptor, and as you know Varus, such are rare in these times. None of us are fully equipped to train and prepare new knights, let alone Armigars, and so he is invaluable to us. He has earned my respect on the field of war, and I hope you all can respect him as well. I do not ask you completely accept him immediately, but I ask that you welcome him as a fellow Knight and as a noble befitting those of House Valor. He will train the next generation of Knights after us, after all."

Varus smiled, humbled by his lords words, and so he beat his chest once.

"Very well, if it is what you wish for Lord Reginal. Then we shall."

"Good, then I shall contact you again if anything changes here. I expect the same to be done on your end. Thank you Varus."

At that the transmission ended, and Reginal took a deep breath. He had grown tired, and though the battle exhilarated him, it had still taken its toll on him. The rights of removal to get out of his knight usually took several hours, and so, he decided it was finally time to get some rest.


	3. Chapter 3

**Viola** walked along the catwalk past the two hulking knights, and looked down to see the guardsman, Emile and Eli still searching the bottom of the ship.

"Is it clear?"

Emile looked up at her.

"It is thus far, but until the main lights go on, we will stand ready."

Viola held down her cap as she remembered the only person she was wary of on the entire ship, which Eli brought on board. It did not bode well with her, that the High Lord of the Knight house was here with a Psyker he adamantly did not want.

"And our other… guest?"

Eli answered this time.

"She is here, resting. Do not worry, she hasn't been tainted by the filth from outside. She's currently sedated as well, as due to your request."

Viola sighed. This would be settled eventually, one way or another. Until then however, she had to make sure everything was settled. So she made her way back to the control deck, where the single pilot breathed heavily to themselves, vomit on the floor besides them as they stared onward at their task.

"Pilot, are we out of the atmosphere yet?"

The pilot only gave her a nod.

Viola walked to a smaller screen that projected the outside sensor under the ship, to see the city below them almost entirely swarmed. Well, today she felt merciful enough. If the governor hadn't already died, she would give him a swift death by bombardment before the vile forces got to him.

"Very well then, connect me to a channel to my ship, the Crusader King."

The pilot flicked a few buttons before a vox transmission appeared.

"You have need of us?"

Viola smiled.

"Yes. Begin exterminatus now."

A simply reply followed.

"By the Emperors will."

Without hesitation the planet beneath them was soon torn asunder by the power of thousands of World shaker Batteries. The very ground torn and shredded apart until it could no longer take the strain. It would come to an end by the time Viola and the others returned to her ship. The planet would soon separate, all of it at once ceasing to be. Another world lost, but not given, to the forces that opposed mankind. Such a waste, but there would be no way to clean that filth that now stained it. All the souls that still remained would not be save-able as long as they existed in un-death. This, was the Emperors mercy.

The trip back into space was a long one on the simple merchant ship they rode upon, and the added weight of two knights made the trip just that much longer. They had long escaped the range of the planetary bombardment begun by her ship however, and below them the surface of the world was being destroyed, pounded by enormous payloads of explosives, all of the heretics soon to be pounded into naught but oblivion. The thought was a simple matter in Violas mind, as she had called exterminatus on _much_ more populated worlds before, but still even now she found herself relieved at the fact there were no civilians or soldiers left behind. This troubled her, as she knew that her nerve for such engagements began to crumble. She had become far too soft for this line of work, and she knew that any other Inquisitor might deem her unworthy of continuing her duties if she could not make such hardened decisions, as to let entire worlds burn in the name of the Emperor. Before that happened, she would have to either die, or leave the Ordo Malleus of her own volition. Yet, such was not an easy decision, but one that could not be avoided forever. Thankfully, she could ignore it for now, at the very least.

She left the Pilot deck, much to the relief of the overworked fellow, who was able to relax his tense muscles once she was gone. Outside, she saw at the other end Verdun and who she assumed to be the two Knights, out of their armor. Both dressed in silver and black attire, with a small number of hoses attached to the helmets they held at their side. The primary lights switched on, so that the entire corridor was brightly illuminated. On the bottom floor, the Guardsmen talked freely with Emile. Eli on the other hand was in the corner as he tended to the young girl who remained unconscious on a small cot procured from the pilot. For now everything seemed fine, but when it came to discussing business, she had much to worry about in regards to the girl. Still, perhaps if she invited the Knights to her ship, perhaps things could be settled over much smoother.

She kept that idea in mind as she walked to the end of the ship, where both Knights stood, Verdun still in awe of their machines behind them. He peered at them in a manner one would look at a lost lover. He was always fascinated by the things, and though he had knowledge of the ships and all that she required of him, he spent an absorbent amount of time studying these ancient machines in particular. She figured it was one of the quirks of being a Techpriest, though she also never assumed he would get the chance to see them. Regardless, she had to step in quickly before he did something he would most certainly regret.

"Hello, Knight Pilots, it is a pleasure to meet you. I hope that my Techpriest has not been a bother to you."

Verdun only glared at her for a moment, but returned to his awe inspired gaze of the Knights. One of the Knights was a clearly older man, in what she assumed was his early forties to fifties, an age not common among those she has known. The other much younger, probably around her age, whom she recalled as the one she had first spoken to over the vox channel. The High lord of the house, Lord Reginald.

Reginald held a hand over his chest. The Inquisitor was a truly beautiful woman he thought, and in truth he already admired her from the small time he knew her. Few Inquisitors showed the honor she had displayed to him on this day, and it was rarer still that they displayed such compassion for the common citizen. Something that every knight had, but so few others of the Imperium did, which was something that was pleasantly shared.

"It is also a pleasure to meet you, Inquisitor, and the Techpreist has been sufficient. Though I believe, you have yet to tell me your name."

Viola smirked.

"The name is Viola Virdreich the III. And your friend?"

Lord Hektor gave a small bow.

"You may call me Sir Hektor, and I was a Freeblade. However, as of today I have joined myself with House Valor. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Sir Hektor, she thought? Viola was certain she knew the name from somewhere, and as she thought about it, she remembered; The Chainbreaker. She had heard of him in her travels, though she didn't expect to find such a legendary figure here.

"Ah, the fabled Chainbreaker. I am glad you found a place you could persist."

The old man gave a small smile, though he did not entirely like her remark.

"It is nice to be recognized, at the very least."

Reginald was happy to hear that his new noble was one of renown, which meant he would easily integrate with the others. They respected the titles that others had earned on quests, and Lord Hektor seemed to have gained quite a reputation as a Freeblade. So, his worry on the matter was lessened. Though, he felt that this Inquisitor had much more to talk with him.

"Well then, Lady Inquisitor. I believe you have more you wish to discuss?"

Viola nodded.

"Yes. In fact, I would like to extend an invitation to my ship to discuss… business if you would."

Reginald always dreaded the political side of being a Knight, but he had trained extensively in the art growing up, so he knew how to handle himself. Besides, perhaps this was the chance he needed to push things forward for his house.

"Very well, I will inform the others."

Lord Hektor interjected.

"Lord Reginal, if I may ask, I need to return to my ship so that I may inform my sacristans and those aboard of our new status. I am sure that you would allow us to dock our ship within your cruiser as well, if it would please you."

Reginald nodded, grateful for the request.

"Don't worry, they will be a welcomed addition to our house as well. Sacrastins are difficult to come by in the vastness of space, and so the more that are willing to join our house, the better. Inform them they are all welcomed into House Valor, and any others aboard your ship are extended the same offer. I will inform the others of my court to be ready for your arrival."

Lord Hector placed a hand over his chest.

"Thank you, High Lord. I am glad I met you on this day."

With that Lord Hektor made his way back to his knight to patch in a vox communication to his ship. Viola and Reginald left on the catwalk with only Verdun behind them.

With his servo arms he extended one to Reginal, and the others longingly towards the knight.

"Excuse me, Lord Reginal, but it appears that your Knights have been damaged severely. Though I lack all of the materials to repair any of the armor, I can make minor fixes to the wiring that has been strained within the leg joints."

Reginald knew the Techpriest's of the Mechanicum were always incredibly fond of machines, and would go to extreme extant for them. But he disliked the idea of one so close to his Knight. Still, the machine spirit of his knight did not seem to dislike this Techpriest, which was rare as only few Sacristans were allowed to work on it without angering the noble spirit. Besides, if he denied his request, he was sure the Techpriest would attempt to do so regardless, and he did not wish to cause such conflict. However, he would not speak for Lord Hektors knight, and as long as the Techpriest was satisfied working on his, he hoped he would not interfere with Lord Hektors unauthorized. The work a guarantee to be genuine as well, given the Techpriest's upmost care for the holy machines, so he did not have to worry about any uncalled for damage.

Viola on the other hand was internally furious with Verdun, who had stepped over the line repeatedly with these guests. Important matters had to be discussed, but still he pushed his own intentions forward. Yet she managed to hide her anger beneath a calm face, and only waited for the answer Reginald would give him. Thankfully, it was a good one.

"Very well, Techpriest. But only my knight will you work on, unless you get express acknowledgment from Lord Hektor as well."

Techpriest Verdun bowed, with all of the hands he could.

"Very well, as you command, Lord Reginal."

With that, the Techprist took off with an aura of glee, hidden beneath the plethora of machine and flesh he was, and began the repairs on his Knight. The only two left on the catwalk now Reginald and Viola who looked at one another, and for a moment each found themselves attracted. But that was a distraction to the task at hand, and both of them knew they had to maintain on track if they were to accomplish what was to be done. Still, such things could wait at least for now, until they reached her ship.

Reginald spoke up.

"So, Inquisitor Viola, might I ask about yourself?"

Viola smirked.

"Well, you go right for the personal don't you? But, only if you do the same."

Reginald made a very small bow, so as not to give too much ground to the inquisitor before him. Was the first mistake he saw many take against inquisitors in his time questing.

"Agreed. Then might I ask, what drove someone like you to become an Inquisitor? Such is the job of the cruel and relentless."

Viola gritted her teeth. So, it wasn't simply herself which noticed.

"I wasn't always so forgiving, Lord Reginal. There was a time I would have sooner destroyed that planet than attempt to save anyone."

Reginald stared on at her. She made him curious, in a way few outsiders did. Such a stark contrast from those of before. Still, he should have assumed that she was like most Inquisitors, at least at one point. But what could have caused such change?

Before Reginald had a chance to ask, Viola asked a question of her own.

"Well, how did someone as young as yourself become High Lord of a Knightly house?"

Reginald frowned at the question. In truth, his reign as High Lord had been short. Exceedingly so, but that had not meant he didn't rule over his people with upmost care and diligence. No…

"Well, Lady Viola, my father died two years ago in the destruction of our planet. He was a sickly man, and I had ruled for him in the years prior, but it was not till his dying breath that he donned the title of High Lord upon me. And so, that is why."

Viola thought about his words. It must feel so different. To have kin. She never had a father, a mother, siblings; no-one. What she did have was the priests and the Abbots of the Schola where she was taught. Trained to become what she was now, never allowed to think of such things as family. That was not the job of the inquisitor. Day in day out, the doctrines and combat disciplines drilled into her head made sure she never did. But once… once she became a full Inquisior, released out into the Imperium, from time to time her mind would wonder. Then she met Emile and Eli…

She grabbed hold of the railing as she looked at the Knights.

"I never had those whom I called family. I envy you for such things, High Lord. Though we are both bound by duties, we each have things which… I have lost out on so much of the human experience which I fight so hard to preserve. Which I had to cut short myself. That is the life of an Inquisitor."

Reginald stood closer beside her as he held onto the rail.

"From my own experience, you would have already been excommunicated from the order for such things."

Viola laughed.

"The Inquisition is so spread among these stars, that they can't control even a fraction of those they send out. Such idea is merely the cause of Imperial propaganda. In truth, we are nothing more than Humans with a goal, forced upon us from birth, by destiny if you would. But yes, you are right. I am not sure of my own life as an Inquisitor anymore, and the fact that I even speak to you of such things shows such."

Reginald sighed. She was nothing like the Inquisitors he had known after all. But, that was not a detriment, nor was it wrong. He saw her as something he never did among those he knew.

"How do you see the suffering among the Imperium, Viola?"

Viola grinned.

"No 'Lady' or 'Inquisitor'?"

Reginald shook his head.

"As you said, Viola. Despite our place within this vast universe, we are nothing but humans. The authority we have over others nothing but constructs put in place long ago. I despise these political facades I am forced to don when I deal with most of your Ilk, but with you, I can see you understand there is more to humanity than merely surviving. What is left in the end matters as much as that which carries on."

Viola found herself genuinely surprised by his words, unable to respond. Something that had only happened long ago during her days in the Schola. Truly she had lost her edge. Still, the admiration she had for this man was real. Something she did not have to fake as with most Governors, those of the administratum or even other Inquisitors. This was…

Viola gripped the railing tightly.

"I can only agree with you, Reginal."

Reginald smiled.

"No High Lord, Inquisitor?"

Viola laughed, loudly as she for the first time in countless years gave a real laugh. For these moments, at least she could enjoy herself, in this small transport away from her ship, from the authority of her peers. With someone who could understand her, and was not afraid of even her mere presence.

Of course, not everyone could enjoy themselves on this crammed little ship. Eli stood perilously over the woman he had saved, as she slept soundly. Uncertain of what he was to do.

"I promised."

From a short distance away, Emile watched his young brother. This was a lesson of its own, but even Emile did not wish for it to be so drawn out, so punishingly tragic. Regardless, the presence of a Psyker was dangerous in the most calm of scenarios, but here, and when she was so badly hurt, was even worse. Though Emile would never wish for harm to befall an innocent person, he could not stand by forever and put everyone in danger. He would watch from a distance, let Eli wonder his options, and dependent on the girls condition, if she did not recover, he would have to kill her himself. A task not easily done, nor looked forward to. He would simply want for her to recover, and be allowed to persist unimpeded. Such things weren't guaranteed however, and all he could do was be realistic. Be within reason. As was taught by those of the Oath Marines.

"Lord Space Marine."

Emile turned to face the guardsmen who were with him. Commander Richell stood beside him as she held a hand to her chest. Emile never could get the voidsmen in Violas service to acknowledge him as anything less than an angel of the Emperor.

"What is it, Guardsman?"

Richell lowered her hand.

"Thank you for watching over Lady Viola on this day. I am sure the battle was intense."

Emile only nodded, his helmet as expressionless as always, but such an acknowledgment everything to the common human.

Richell smiled.

"Truly, you were angels sent to protect her by the Emperor himself."

Emile knew this commander had a past with Viola, though he never asked for more information. She had always been loyal to her, and stood steadfast beside her even from before she found himself and Eli. Though, what was it that drove this loyalty?

"Richell… might I ask you a question?"

She tensed up tightly as she straightened herself, as if she was naught but a recruit, and looked at Emile. He very rarely if ever asked any of the others questions, let alone talked with them. Such was not the place of most guardsmen, and she was no different. But this time, he wanted something, and come hell she would answer.

"Y-Yes Lord Space Marine?"

A small static sigh came from his helmet.

"Tell me, how long have you known Viola?"

Richell was surprised by the question. Though she could have sworn he had already knew, it was a shock to her that he would ask such. Still, she had to answer as directly as possible. If he asked, it was for an important reason after all. Not that she could, or would, disclose everything.

"I have known her since we were children, my liege."

Emile was silent for a moment. Since childhood? Such should have been impossible, due to Viola being brought up within a Schola. Then again, it was not uncommon practice for the initiates to have their memories erased. To be dragged away from their home worlds and the life they had once knew, and remade.

"You are aware she was sent to a Schola?"

Richell swallowed her fear, but maintained an adamancy that was not lost on Emile.

"Yes. I am. But we knew each other since long before she was taken to that accursed place—"

She stopped herself as she became flustered. She had just called a holy order of the Imperium an accursed place, something she had known Commissars killed for much less. But if it had to end here, so be it.

Emile on the other hand, agreed with such an assessment. The Scholas were not good places, and most teetered on borderline vile. They were institutions of pain, suffering, dogmatic indoctrination and a disregard for the life of its own students. Not that he could ignore the cursed necessity of such horrible institutions. But that did not change that it was something, the Oath Marines had never agreed with, and likely, never would. Always accepted as necessary, and silently condoned. Still, he had soon answer the woman before she shoot herself for a perceived slight.

"Do not worry, I will not dispute such an accurate view of the Schola. You have said no wrong and I will not punish you for it."

Richell bowed, hand over her chest.

"O-Of course, liege."

Such a display was not ignored by her fellow soldiers who watched from a distance. All of the voidsmen under her command admired her greatly and at a moment's notice would sacrifice themselves for her. Though they weren't nearly as dogmatic in their belief to the Emperor, though they too believed in him, they would stand even in the face of a Space Marine if it meant defending the honor of their commander. This is what made it difficult for them to watch their usually stoic and fearless leader weak at the knees in the face of this Space Marine. It was a slight to her, and to them, but they would not voice their opinions. She viewed the Space Marines highly, and made it clear she would not hear of such things. Though, they were always tense with the Space Marines, and stood always ready. This was by no means lost on Emile either, who had grown to distance himself from Richell and her soldiers because of this. This time however, he wanted to know.

"Then, you may continue."

Richell nodded as she stood straight again.

"Very well. Viola and I were young, the children of imperial officers on a world that was colonized by Guardsmen of the Tallarn Raiders. We were friends. Of course, when the Orks had attacked, the planet was ravaged and we were separated. Her parent died, and because of it, she was sent to a Schola somewhere far away. It was not until I grew up and became a prominent member of the Guard, that I discovered the reality of the Schola. Of course, I never thought I would see her again. That is, until she arrived on the battlefield of AgrariaIV in a nearby system where I was positioned. It was besieged by the same orks whom had attacked our planet long ago. Me and my men fought bravely to avenge it, but we were overrun, nearly entirely killed off when she arrived on her ship. Though the battle was soon to be over with her orders for exterminatus, she still came down and offered me and the remainder of my men service as voidsmen aboard her ship. She could have left us to die, yet she came down and told us she was proud of our fight. Something she had told us, she did not want to get wasted dying on a lost world. Since then, I have always stayed by her side and I do not intend to leave it until I die."

Emile was both warmed by the story he heard, and deeply saddened. True, it was neigh impossible for those who knew each other to ever find one another again when separated in the vastness of space, but for an instance in which it occurred to be so tragic was nothing but a hallmark to the state of their universe at large. He remembered Viola had once told him the story of that planet. Something he would now never disclose to this woman who so looked up to her. She only saved those guardsmen that day, because she had lost the rest of her military assets in an ork raid, and needed them replenished. If it had not happened, Emile doubted she would have ever saved them, and set the planet to burn. At least, back before he knew her. She had clearly changed much since then, as she had grown to care deeply for those under her service, whether she would acknowledge it or not. Regardless, Emile knew all too well how hurtful the truth could be.

So he said nothing of that subject and merely bowed his head. An act that both shocked Richell and her Guardsmen.

"You are an excellent commander, Richell, and a loyal guardsmen. I admire such things, and you have given me hope in our fight that we have such loyal and capable soldiers. Thank you for explaining to me what I asked of you. Now, I believe you ought to return to your men. We should be arriving shorty to the ship."

Richell bowed herself.

"Ri-Right liege! Thank you for such words."

Quickly she rose and made her way to her guardsmen, who were happy to see their beloved commander acknowledged in such a fashion by a Space Marine. Something that made Richell's day, and likely the next solar century, entirely.

Emile was glad to see this. At least, he had garnered some respect from the other guardsmen because of it. Still, he was happy to learn more about the Inquisitor. If it had not been for what she had told them before they arrived, he may have never thought to seek such answers. It was him and her in her office, where she pondered on whether or not they should intervene on the world. She knew what he would have told her, and before he could say a word the only response she gave was;

'I wonder if I am fit to wear this insignia, this I. Because despite all I was told, all the dogmas I know, I can't bring myself to disagree with you.'

He had suspected it for a long time. She did not desire to be an Inquisitor any longer, and the more she played the role, the more she grew apart from it. Whether it was merely a matter of herself, or a defect in the usually rigid process of the Schola she entered, Emile did not know. What Emile did know, was he had to convince her to leave such life behind. Before her fellows caught up with her and removed her from the Inquisition on their own, which was bound to occur eventually. Not all of the Inquisitors were terrible people, but many were, and more than that, many were so devout in their faith to the Emperor they believed whatever they did to be right. Then again, many were also self-serving traitors who used the Emperors name to further their power.

Emile had grown fond of Viola, despite the differences they shared, and in some ways, since he had joined her crew… felt something he knew shouldn't have been. A fatherly instinct, that long ago should have been carved away with the rest of the parts within him that were altered; in the process that made him the superhuman that he was.

The vox systems above them clicked on, as the pilot managed to speak.

"We are entering the… the space around the Inquisitors ship soon. E-Expect to dock within the hour."

At that, everyone within the cargo area set themselves to work as they prepared to debark within the confines of the ship. Reginald sent a message to his court that he would be meeting with the Inquisitor aboard her vessel, and to set up preparations for Lord Hektor's and his ships arrival. After that however, he remained beside Viola as they continued to talk of many things about the worlds they have visited, the experiences they have had, and things of themselves neither had previously intended to disclose.

The Techpriest Verdun finished his repairs on the holy Knight before him and only stood before it as he bowed. He had hoped to work on the other knight as well, but its pilot, Hektor refused him such honor. Still, he was content having worked on even one of the machines. Lord Hektor still within his Knight as he thought back on his old Knight House, and the people he once knew. He would ensure that this new house would endure and prosper, something he was unable to do with his own. In this new house, the spirit of his original would prosper, and he would bring into the fold new generations of Knights that would go out as champions of the Emperor into the galaxy.

The Guardsmen and the space marines held fast to the straps along the very edges of the ship as they readied themselves for the rough reentry process. Eli still besides the young girl, lost in thought, as he kept her secure. Emile as always just behind him, ready for whatever came.

* * *

***Authors Note***

**For those Curious, this Fic is almost entirely written already. Nearly done as well, but then why haven't I uploaded all of it? ****Simple, I wish to keep it Episodic in a sense, (and give me time to make grammatical edits if need be). As for the release schedule of each chapter, I intend to release a chapter every Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday until completion. Anyhow, hope you have been enjoying the fic! Iv'e put a lot of time into it, and a lot of thought, as I really like the 40k universe. Well, thanks for reading, dear reader, and I hope you stay with me till the end. **


	4. Chapter 4

**The landing process** was simple and straightforward. It had been done countless times over the course of the ships extensive life. Viola rarely looked forward to such occasions, but this was one of them. She almost felt a spot of pride as she prepared to show her guests the ship she had been in command of since the beginning of her career as an Inquisitor. She still remembered when she had taken it from a local Imperial Guard fleet, the commander of which was furious, but could do nothing to prevent her from doing so. It was one of the few memorable and happy moments she experienced through her service thus far. Still. That was then, and this was now.

The massive cargo doors opened to reveal a large docking bay where the sides of the transports bay door were lined with her voidsmen. They all saluted in her presence as she and her fellows walked out. Reginald decided to leave his Knight within the transport for now, though it displeased him, as a sort of mobile vault that would be closed to prevent any of the crew from 'accidentally' damaging it. Viola did not entirely trust her crew would be the upmost careful with such a machine, due to their easily amazed minds, and she knew some of them might end up doing something they regretted because of it. So, she had propositioned the idea to Reginal. He was very to the point, and accepted such with little argument, but again, the displeasure was there. Ah well, she would make it up to him after all.

As everyone walked out from the transport, Lord Hektor who had gotten back into his armor, walked out with heavy steps much to the amazement of her crew. Though she made sure that would be all they would give the giant as she gave them all the glance she had trained them to fear. With that, they went back to work and about their business. The Guardsmen that were on the transport with them and her companion Space Marines went about to their designated places as was accustomed. Viola ran her ship with as little commands as absolutely required after all, since she expected every member to know their place without such orders. Though, she made a hard glance at Eli who carried the young psyker girl in his hands, Emile close behind, as he rushed with her towards what Viola assumed was the nearest Med Bay. Hopefully the girl would die before she became a problem. Last thing she needed was a psyker that would go mad on her ship. Though, she held faith in Emile's ability to do what needed to be done just in case.

Only her captain, Vince Vernheart and the woman who actually ran the ship, Dianna Richte stood before her and Reginal. Reginald looked up to Lord Hektor and with a wave, he began to move to the ship he had arrived in which had landed on hers not long before. Viola had concocted a plan in her mind as they prepared the landing process, and it was soon to be enacted. Of course, business had to be attended to first.

Viola looked to Vernheart who held a hand to his chest, his oversized hat right over his brow. He always tried to look his most 'esteemed' around her. Not that she didn't know his real lineage as nothing more than merchant traders who acted as if they were of importance. But Viola knew how to play to his ego and so she did not mention such.

"How has the ship handled in my absence, Vernheart?"

Verhnheart coughed into his hand as to clear his throat and flicked his perfectly combed moustache with the movement of his smile.

"Why, Lady Inquisitor, I am happy to report that not a single problem has occurred while you were away. As always, you can count on me, Lady Inquisitor."

Viola rolled her eyes.

"Certainly, Vernheart. Thank you. Now, I think it would be best to return to your station. I expect us to be preparing a warp jump within the hour."

Vernheart tensed up as he realized how far he had to travel to return to the ships command deck. If he was quicker, he would have left immediately.

"O-Of course. Lady Inquisitor. I will be sure to have it done."

Without another word he bowed and then swiftly turned to spirt towards the nearest hallway. Viola smirked. It was one of the few joys that she had aboard this ship to play with her crew. Not that many of them seemed quite her equal, perhaps save Dianna Richte or the Space Marines, but none the less, she had company this time she felt on even ground with and she would not squander it. Especially with what plans she had in store.

She looked to Diana whom only stared on at her, stoic as usual.

"Ah, Dianna. Thank you for waiting. Now, I have a list of—"

Dianna interrupted her as she held onto the small data pad she carried in her arms, and pushed up on her glasses.

"Please, I have already prepared the audience room and the chefs have begun preparation for a feast as you had instructed on your last transmission."

Viola respected this woman because unlike so many others she had met, she was stern and did whatever was required of her, no questions asked, and with a loyalty so unwavering, she dared to interrupt an Inquisitor because she knew how invaluable an asset she was.

"Good. I must say, one of these days I will catch you off guard."

Dianna scoffed.

"I doubt it Lady Inquisitor. Come, this way."

Reginald smiled as he saw the way that Viola carried herself. She was nothing less than the Nobles who ruled within House Valor. She truly did interest him, increasingly, as he learned more about her. Still, he had some business that needed to be done first.

"Has Lord Hektors craft been prepared?"

Dianna nodded, slanted in a half bow.

"Of course High Lord Reginal."

She stood back up again and pushed on her glasses to keep them on her face.

"Lord Hektors ship and all those aboard have been well taken care of and they are ready to depart to your ship as soon as Canis Rex is loaded onto it."

Reginald only gave her a nod and that was sufficient for Dianna who turned away from them. She barked orders as several of the crewman in the docking bay who jolted to work. Then she turned to Viola and him once more.

"Come this way Lady Inquisitor, Lord Reginald. I will show you to the audience room."

Viola held out a hand to Reginal.

"Shall we?"

Reginald took her hand with a soft press from his still armored by his suit.

"Of course."

Together they walked off behind Dianna, and made their way into the nicest part of the ship, Violas quarters. Not everyone had such a luxury however, as Emile and Eli both found themselves in one of the darkest and dismal places aboard the massive confines of the cruiser. One of its medical bays, run by the ever vigilant Apothecaries who worked tirelessly to repair the broken and battered of the ship's crew. It was not uncommon for accidents to occur within such a massive vessel, and every solar day, there were easily a hundred or so patients that came in and out of every apothicarium aboard. In space however, medical supplies were worth more than any credit, and supply had to be harshly preserved by those in charge of its distribution. Because of this, surgery was done without anesthetics, sickness was fought by the most minimal of doses, and it was often easier to replace a broken limb with a mechanical prosthetic than to fix it. For these reasons and more, the screams of pain and agony could be heard throughout the lesser medical bays of this ship. The only bay which was always stocked, always manned with the most qualified individuals, in the far center of the ship used only for those whose lives were deemed worthy enough to maintain. Eli could not bring the girl he had rescued to that place. She would not survive the trip.

So it was that Eli and Emile sat over the young girl as she rested on a white infirmary bed, several hoses strapped to her arm that maintained her blood and nutrient intakes. The other beds filled with hurt crewmen, many bandaged or sleeping as they waited for their turn as the understaffed apothecaries made their way to each of them. For all accounts however, the girl was stable. Though it certainly helped that upon arrival, Eli's demands set fire to the Apothecaries work as they quickly took to securing the young girl.

Eli knew that in doing so, many of the other voidsman who were hurt were looked away from. Some may have had their condition worsened because of it, but this girl's health became an obsession. Something he could not fully grasp, as her health pulled at him. It had become less of her however, and this Eli knew, Emile knew it too. It was, in Eli's mind, a proof–a test to see through his chapter's ideals for himself, that if the girl survived he would have fulfilled his duty as a Space Marine of the Oath Marines Chapter. She had to survive, otherwise, Eli feared, he might begin to doubt, and such thoughts could lead to very dangerous places.

Emile knew this well. He knew all that ran through the mind of the young brother before him, but he was all but helpless now to reach him. All the advice in the world could not help his young brother, and Emile knew this was a trial he would have to endure himself. He was no Chaplain, no Captain or Leader, he was but a veteran Brother of a tactical squad. He did not yet know how best to further approach the problems within his brothers mind. All he could do was maintain his resolve, and do what was required to do if the time called for it.

It was then that an Apothecary, a young maned named Simmons, came towards them. He was a stern man who had clearly seen his share of blood and gore. Not even then noble space marines before him dissuaded his stoic eyes.

"My lieges, I am happy to inform you that your charge will make a full recovery, as long as she remains resting here. However, I cannot say how she will fare during the coming warp jump. Though I cannot do anything for the mutatious disease she came aboard with, if she is a psyker as you say. Regardless, if she is a Psyker, she was likely not trained to endure such trauma. Thus, it is in my belief that she be put down before she succumbs to the ruinous powers."

Eli would not hear any of this. He stood, angry, something that was very uncommon among the Oath Marines who prided themselves on calm demeanors, but Eli was still young.

"Do not speak of such things with me, Apothecary. I will have no such thoughts as putting an innocent girl down, merely on a whim. Her life means far more than you would understand."

The apothecary frowned intensively, his brow pushed down to their maximum.

"Forgive me, my liege, but I will not tolerate such a risk within my apothicarium. The life of one girl means nothing in the face of a daemon incursion!"

Eli was prepared to say something else, but Emile held him by his shoulder.

"I apologize for my brother's actions, Apothecary. But, I will not allow such action either. If such comes to pass, be certain, that he will be the one to end her life if it comes."

The Apothecary seemed to calm from his words, and so without saying any of his own, turned away. He took several steps before he stopped. Despite the two Space Marines in his presence, it did not stop him from giving a final remark.

"Very well then. Just in case, I will request a small detachment of Stormtroopers to be deployed outside."

Without any more argument he left to his work. However, Eli was left with the knowledge of what was expected of him, come time his desire for her to live did not pass. He looked up, into the metal ceiling above them.

God Emperor, if truly you are such, all I ask is that you show to me. Prove that this is not in vain. Let her live, so that it can be proven that humanity still has a chance to do more than simply survive. But to be something desirable. Something to be protected. These thoughts—this prayer—ran through his head, something he had not done in a very long time.

Very different thoughts were being had in a far section of the ship, within the Inquisitors audience hall. The most secure and distant place within the entire vessel. So separate from the metal hulk around it, that one would imagine they were within a castle on some feudal world. The walls made of stone, a traditional fireplace at the far back of the room which was lit aflame with logs. Tapestries of various worlds and regiments hung along the walls, columns that maintained the weight of the wooden roof held fast on both ends of the room. A long wooden table that stretched between them, with the Inquisitorial I engraved in its center. Its surface now covered with a feast fit for a high officer of the adminstratum, but only shared between the two people who presently sat about the table. A sight few of its crew would ever hope of seeing within their lifetimes of service.

Viola sat on the far end of the table, a leg crossed over the other underneath the purple dress she wore. As it was not uncommon for her to have guests in this room, she had decided to change into something more appropriate. She also made sure that no one would so much as dare disturb them during their meal. After all, business had to be discussed.

Reginald sat opposite her, dressed in a formal suit akin to those he wore on his home world. As it turned out, he carried around with him cloths for such an occasion. He was a smart man for it after all, since decorum was something highly praised by the higher brass in most worlds. Still, it amused her to know that he expected diplomatic relations as well as war, to carry such vestments within his Imperial Knight at all times.

Reginald smiled as he held up a glass of her finest wine.

"Well, I am impressed Viola. I did not expect such lavishness within the center of your ship."

Viola took a small sip of her wine.

"Oh, you flatter me, but I wasn't the one who had such a thing constructed. After all, this ship was, 'requisitioned' shall we say?"

Reginald sat straight, his posture and form neigh perfect, as was expected of the leader of a Knightly house. Still, Viola knew she could break that shell, given enough time.

Reginald set his glass gently on the table as he took a bite of the freshly prepared meat from some rare animal or another from a world she had visited previously. Though he had found it delicious, his expression gave nothing away.

"That was quite good. Now, shall we get to business?"

Viola grinned as she leaned an elbow onto the table, her chin gently pressed against her palm.

"So soon? Oh, I was just starting to enjoy myself."

Reginald liked this woman's spirit. She was a strong woman worthy of his respect, and he would show her the honor she deserved. House Valor praised itself on how it treated others, and being respectable in return. Still, perhaps he could press further with this one. Unlike many within his house, few women would treat him as equal, many believing themselves inferior. Something he did not admire at all. No, he wished to have someone whom he could call an equal, an ally he could depend upon and someone who would not back down when they had a thought to be shared. Unfortunately, before such could be done, he had to secure what he originally came for first. He had to secure his house first and foremost as his highest priority, as was the responsibility held on him by virtue of his title.

"Trust me, it is as dull to me as it is for you. But, it is of vital importance to me and my House that we establish our reward. As I'm sure you have already thought, I would be more than obliged lest my House is provided a planet from which we can rebuild. Besides, after all is said and done, we could continue our 'banter'."

Viola picked up and held her wine glass in a single quick motion.

"Ah, you are smart aren't you? Very well then. In payment of your valiant actions on the planet Sola, it would be more than an honor to provide you the ownership and deed of a planet in a nearby system. Of course, as I am sure you are aware, the frontier is often forgotten about by the Imperial Administration due to its distant nature. This allows for far too much harm to come in the way of Imperial worlds that would otherwise provide their service to the Emperor in full."

Reginald smiled as he sipped from his wine as well. She knew about why he decided to bring his ship to the frontier, rather than anywhere else within the Imperium. It was a decision he made with little remorse, even if it confused some of the more glory hungry of his court.

"Well, I'm impressed Viola. It would be strange to most that such a powerful force as a Knight House would simply wonder around the Frontier when there are more dire places within the Imperium."

Viola grinned.

"House Valor says it all, really. You care of the Imperial Citizen, and it would be unlike you to simply abandon those who are forgotten. So I give you this chance, to claim the planet known as 'Colony 199957' of the Schola Prime Sector. It's a recently discovered feudal world, recently racked by war with its inhabitants. A good stock as well, and will make good subjects."

Reginald liked the sound of the planet, but all bases had to be covered.

"The name will have to be changed of course."

Viola chuckled.

"Oh, I think it would be a grand name. Certainly unassuming for those foolish enough to attack it. Might be worth the irony."

Reginald maintained an eye lock with her as they stared intently across the table. Neither of them would give way to the other in matters of diplomacy. Such was not to be done in the battlefield of politics after all.

"And what of the planets that surround it?"

Viola replied swiftly.

"There are two nearby worlds within decent warp distance. One of them is a barren world filled with materials, likely looked at by the Adeptus Mechanicus as a place for an upcoming forgeworld. The other is a very unique world, one that I think you would get along with greatly. It is called Solaris, the home world of the Faceless Legion, a little known but highly effective legion of Imperial Guard. They have been the bulk of this sectors defenders, and defenders they have been. The one caveat, as I am sure you no doubt expected, is the Ork presence in the sector which while not nearly as destructive as others found within the Imperium, is still large enough to be a threat. Freebooters as they call themselves, who have claimed several asteroid belts as permanent bases, something unusual for Orks. The Faceless Legion of course, has been superb at holding off these xenos, and with your House added to the sector, the Orks would be all but no threat and the sector can expand into a proper arm of the Imperium."

Reginald thought to himself for several moments. This was a very generous offer, and more than that, it was something that benefited most everyone. Save the Orks of course, but their lives were naught but to be smashed under the heel of the Emperors might. Regardless, he did not suspect any trickery from Viola. Though their time was brief, he felt he understood her enough to know she would not deceive him. He knew what kind of asset an Imperial Knight House posed anywhere, after all.

He raised his glass.

"Very well, it seems you have convinced me, Viola. Congratulations."

Viola gave him a coy smile as she rubbed the rim of her wine glass.

"I'm glad you are satisfied."

She drank another sip of her wine.

"Well then, shall we continue our prior talks?"

Reginald sipped from his own.

"Of course. That's just one thing we've… satisfied, as you put it."

Both of them talked freely from that point on as they slowly drank several bottles of the wine. They discussed many things, from the state of the Imperium to their personal amusements. Though the one topic that eluded them both was that of courtship, not that either had to say a word about such. Viola had already enacted her plan however. She knew she could no long act as Inquisitor, she would no longer be able to effectively complete her task in her softened state. But, leaving such an order was no easy task, as every Inquisitor was expected to serve unto death or be dismissed by a High Inquisitor of duty. She did not intend to die anytime soon however, and the other option would see her stripped of everything, her title, her authority and the lifestyle she had grown accustomed to. This was not what she wanted either. However as she spent time with Reginald, it came to her what would be the way out she desired.

She wouldn't mind living as a noble within a Knightly House, allowed to maintain her elevated lifestyle, maintain the authority she was used to wielding. More than that, as the wife of a Knight Houses High Lord, the Inquisition would be more than wise enough to use such to their advantage. Though she would no longer be an inquisitor, they would have someone on the inside to help convince the Knight house to go where it needed to be. While in such a position, the Inquisition would not be willing or desire to so much as inquire why she abandoned her service as Inquisitor, as angering any Knight House would be foolish beyond belief. Not that many Inquisitors travelled along this region of space, the frontier a place as forgotten as any other. Still, she wanted to cover all her bases, and the life that she would have would be more than comfortable enough for her.

Her cheeks were red as she took another sip of her wine. Strong and potent it was, the strongest she had. Unfortunately, neither of them _seemed _to be drunk yet. Reginald's face was also red, though he tried to hide how intoxicated he had become. Not that he did not understand what Violas intentions were.

Still, something Viola had long ignored was courtship. She never slept with anyone before, but certainly she would figure it out. She had only provided more to the both of them to ensure such would come to pass. Still, as she thought about it, she became hot.

"Well Reginald, it has been a lovely time."

Reginald nodded.

"Yes it has, Viola."

Viola stood up as she sat on the edge of the table. She slowly pushed down on the part of her dress that covered her chest.

"You're company has been long overdue. I worried I would never meet someone who would stand on my level."

Reginald closed his eyes for a moment. If anyone was fit to be his partner, certainly he found her. After all, soon he would have an entire planet to bring into his Houses name. He would need someone to help him in such an endeavor, someone fit to be his equal.

"I feel much the same, Viola."

Viola blinked her eyes as the heat rose. She pulled on her dress, just enough so that her leg up to her thigh would be revealed.

"Well then, might we, 'retire' to my personal quarters? I promise to be gentle."

Reginald carefully, and as respectfully as he could muster stood from his seat. He walked over to her, where she held out a hand for him to grab. He held it softly and pulled her close to him as their eyes met, face to face as they peered into one another's eyes. Their faces flushed with red as their minds drifted to pleasurable things. The heat steadily rose between both of them, as the warmth of their bodies pressed against one another.

"If it would suit you, Viola, I would not deny such an honor."

She held him tightly as they shared a long kiss between one another. It was only a matter of time then, that they made their way to her quarters, where hours were spent intimately between the both of them. A first time for both of them, shared freely with one another.

* * *

In another corner of the ship, another person shared their first time in something they never believed they would do; warp travel. A task so daunting for a psyker, that one could never be sure if they would survive or be unchanged by the time they returned to real space. Not that Erina Pendleton knew where she was, or what entirely occurred around her. Nothing but psychic glimpses that flashed in and out of her mind of her surroundings. The one, single angel that provided her comfortable, the Space Marine an ever present aura around her. Though she could not even hope to reach their mind, and those of the people around her seemed to scream all at once in a wave of voices. It was madness.

What she knew was that she was still alive, and her soul was still clean. Though she was physically hurt in many places, the pain was missing. She was also what seemed to be 'calm' as the warp flickered around her. Poked at the edge of her consciousness as it hung over her like a corpse hung at the tree back home. The Psykers tree as her mother had called it…

She understood some of what was said around her. She did not like it. But she could not blame them. She could not blame the others for despising her, the filth she was. An abhuman of the worst kind. That is why she was to be killed by fellow humans, lined up to be slaughtered in flash of red and torn limb from limb. A mercy she knew, because their home was surrounded by daemons and monsters. Creatures who would do worse things than such an easy death.

Still, her angel saved her. He fought for her. Time and time again, the glorious servant of the Emperor, the Space Marine protected such filth as her. Even when she had dared to plead for her life in his presence. What did he see in her? Why did he care so much? These thoughts were all that ran through her consciousness. She wanted to toss and turn, to shake off this uncomfortable feeling of guilt and sadness, this confusion she felt, but her physical body would not move. It simply laid there as her mind and spirit floated above, slumped in the bed lifeless as one of the Governors dolls. A spot of joy crossed her mind as she thought of the terrible fate that befell the man. He deserved worse she was sure, but even she could tell the fear he felt as that Inquistor killed him. Funny that in what she imagined to be her final moments, she reached out to seek his mind. But what she saw she was content with.

'Well, aren't you full of self-doubt?'

Her mind reeled as she felt another near her. She felt cold, shivered as her body convulsed once to the shock of those around her bed. Something else—someone else was in her mind.

'Who is that?'

She imagined herself hiding in the furthest reaches of her mind. She did not wish to be taken by a daemon. No. Anything but that! Please… anything… anything!

'Daemon you say? You would have known if I was a daemon. Erina Pendleton.'

She keeled herself into a ball as she suddenly found herself cast in a projected illusion. She sat on what she could only imagine as a real rug, a figure clad in a dark coat opposite her as they rested on a leather chair. She wanted to escape, but she was too weak to shrug their grasp, and was stuck within the mindscape. Yet there was no pull, no crazy inducing trauma, no torture, not yet anyway, something that terrified her.

'Who are you? What are you?'

She felt herself rise as a chair pushed from the nothingness under her and forced her to sit. Just an illusion, but still it felt so real.

The figure let out a long sigh.

'I have no intention of harming you. In fact, I have gone to great lengths to ensure you are unhampered by the warp.'

She remained silent as she tried to discern something of his form, but she knew it was useless. This figure was nothing more than a mental projection.

'What are you…?'

The figure swayed their head to the side.

'I am something outside. Something different than that which you fear so greatly. I am an entity separate you're Emperor, separate the chaos gods. I am, a new player in this game, if you will. One I hope not to play long.'

She was going crazy. She knew it. That was all this was. The warp would soon have her mind in shambles. She held onto her head within the illusion, but felt nothing. No pressure as she tried to squeeze onto her throbbing head.

The figure shook theirs.

'Clearly, this is harder than I thought. Let's just say I am an enigma. Something completely outside the warp, with no ties to it. This connection you feel is entirely between souls, mine and yours. And I have need of you.'

Erina shook her head.

'No! Stay away foul daemon! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!'

The figure placed a hand onto their face, clearly frustrated.

'Erina. I am giving you a chance to become something else. And no, I don't mean a Daemon or whatever hell you've imagined. I have made deals all around this universe of yours. See, unlike literally everything else, I intend on saving what I can. Forgo the endless maw. Break the chain of others past mistakes. I offer you a way out. An escape from this taint you feel as a Psyker. I offer you a life where you can be happy.'

Erina found herself subconsciously acknowledge what he said. Escape this taint?

'What do you mean?'

The figure finally sat straight.

'I have many hopes for you, for many aboard this vessel, and for this sector in its entirety. However, such takes time to prepare. A lot of time. And trust me, I have nothing but pure intentions. I will do what big E failed to do for the people of this sector. But I need assistance.'

Erina remained silent for what felt like hours.

'Are we in the warp?'

The figure shook its head.

'Not exactly. Though the ship you currently traverse in is.'

'Am I going crazy…?'

'I will not make that decision for you.'

'What are you going to do to me…?'

'I will offer you a deal, and if you agree you will become something else.'

'I don't want to be…'

'You will still be human. But you will find yourself different. You won't be a psyker, not exactly, but instead, something else. I will guide you, and I promise, I will never hurt you.'

'Would you add that to your deal?'

'Of course. I promise, I will never hurt you. I will help guide you so that together, we can save many more.'

…

'How do I know you are not a daemon…?'

'This again… A daemon, Erina, would have torn your consciousness into fragments, split your soul and sent its scraps to their master, and only then, would it possess your body. None of which has happened here, has it?'

'No.'

'So then, I will offer my deal now. Will you join me?'

'If I refuse will I die?'

The figure seemed solemn, sincere, in a brief flash of emotion that Erina managed to decipher from them.

'Unfortunately, you'd be thrown back to your body, and without either my gift or my protection, you will be susceptible to the warp. And then you will meet daemons.'

Erina thought again to herself, for what felt like hours. Then she came to her decision. She had little choice regardless, and she knew she already lost the moment they offered to remove the taint of of the warp from her. Something so foolishly naïve to believe, but she did. If she was wrong, she would be overtaken, consumed and turned against those that surround her bed.

But…

But if she wasn't.

What if? What If…? What… _If_…?

She looked at the figure within her mind, clear in resolve, clear in determination. There would be no going back now. No.

'I accept.'

The figure became warm as they exuded a kindness to her.

'I promise you, you will not regret it. Now we have much to discuss.'


	5. Chapter 5

**None knew anything** of this mental discussion that occurred within Erina's mind, and those that watched her only saw a young girl strapped to a bed. The many monitors that outlined her health all that lit up the dark of the room. They had been in the warp for nearly an entire hour, at least eight was expected to remain in the trip. Watchful eyes over the girl in case she sprung up, possessed or insane. Thankfully for Eli, she had shown no such signs.

The Apothecary had made true to his word after all. A small group of Stormtroopers stood along the wall besides her, their hotshot lasguns held to their chest, but easily aimed and fired at her should they be requested. Their presence made Eli nervous, but Emile managed to calm him down. So far, the girl was alive and as far as he saw, she was yet a faithful member of the Imperium.

Emile held onto his shoulder. He was surprised by the girl's seemingly calm demeanor, even if she were unconscious, something that was strange to him. Suspiciously so. He had seen trained psykers of the adeptus telepathica, fall to insanity in but moments after entering the warp, yet this girl who had no formal training simply slept soundly. A single jolt earlier, a pained look on her face as she seemed to fear something, and then… contention. He did not know what to think of it, but he knew Eli was pleased by it. Of course he would be, as it only helped to reaffirm him of his duty. For now, that was enough, and if the girl was possessed her body would have long been ripped apart unable to contain the fowl creatures essence. Still, he would not rout out possibility.

He stood from where he sat, as Eli quickly made a turn to face him.

"What is it Emile?"

Emile looked out at the Stormtroopers who stood silently as statues. The lack of glare on their masks all but indicative of their stoic readiness as they peered at the girl from the corner of their helmets. If it came to it, Eli would be able to fulfill his duty and put her down, but the Stormtroopers ensured him that he could at least leave for now. He had some things he needed to discuss with one of the spare Psykers on the command deck.

"I am going to take care of something. I will return as soon as that is accomplished."

Eli only gave a silent nod as his helmet moved up and then down, no hint at the expression beneath the mask.

"Very well."

At that, Emile made his way outside of the apothicarium, and began the long trek through the ships tight corridors to the command deck. When he and Eli were first welcomed aboard, he had made it a point to traverse the entire ship and memorize its layout. It was vital he was able to make it anywhere on the ship as quickly as possible, lest there be an emergency which require his attention. Thankfully nothing was ever so immediate as to force himself to rush to any location, but this time it would serve him well.

It had taken almost an hour, a time that was easily one hour or two quicker than most of the crew would be able. Of course, as he made his way past them they all moved out of his way, bowed, and even prayed. It was only different once he entered into the command deck, where those who were stationed around the many computers that connected systems around the ship sat. Their attention was too vital for them to turn to face him, and they knew it well. For this reason, Emile always found himself more at ease when in this room of the ship. Even if it was small, at only a hundred feet long and equally as deep.

Still, he had expected to see Viola on her chair stationed at the very back of the room, where a massive screen was set just above in front of it. The Chair itself made of a black steel, twisted so that it curved into a vine for the back. Red upholstered leather strapped to the chair as cushioning, and armrests made of another metal that jutted down into two servo skulls strapped into its mechanisms.

The Tech-priest of the vessel, Verdun, stood ahead of the chair as they overlooked the many crewmen that worked at their stations. The large screen at the far back of the room bright with images of the outsides of the ship.

The Techpriest only turned his head to see Emile before he looked back.

"Ah, Space Marine Emile. What brings you here?"

Emile stepped further into the room so that he was a reasonable distance from the techpriests servo arms. He was always unsettled by his inhuman presence.

"I came to speak with an Astropath."

Verdun clicked several times as gears twisted from underneath his coat.

"Why? Do you doubt our course?"

Emile shook his head.

"No. But I have my reasons."

Verdun moved a hand to a servo skull as it passed and pressed his hand onto it. The wires within connected as data moved into it. Within a few moments he was done, and then let it go.

"Reasons beyond discussing with me? Trust me, I can help you learn the odds."

Emile looked back at Violas chair. Verdun noticed this and gave a quick response to what he calculated was the most likely question.

"If you wish to know where Viola is, she is currently copulating within her private quarters with the High Lord of the Knight House."

Emile closed his eyes for a moment. This was unnecessary information.

"Verdun, I simply wish to see an Astropath. Is this able to be done?"

Verdun grew agitated with his insistence.

"Fine. I will have a servo skull fetch one of the spares."

Emile knew of Verduns distaste, but he refused to let it bother him. He would do as he asked.

"Thank you."

From underneath Verduns red hood, he pulled a Servo Skull from the cage he had installed just besides what remained of his ribs. Where he carried all of the servo skulls he maintained. His personal stock, as it were. He brought it to his face and gave a small prayer of awakening as the visor over the skulls right eye flashed to life. He gave it its orders, and with that the Skull flew away, the long metal tube of connection wires dangled below it.

It was a simple task to send servo skulls to do what was required of them. In Verdun's mind, they were more reliable than most who had flesh. As with all machines he held reverence for them, but his personal stock were more special. He had made them entirely by himself, of people whom he had grown close with and died in battle. A practice not entirely looked highly upon by others in the Mechanicum. It was deemed an honor to be transcended into the floating skulls, but those Verdun had chosen would likely have been deemed unworthy of the charge. Still, Verdun knew well that all techpriests sought to explore, satiate their curiosity and progressive desires. So long as they were not found out by those within the upper Mechanicum, or those whom they have made ill with, they would be left to do so. Especially Inquisitors who knew full and well the practicality of progression, the good it could bring to the Imperium. Still, tradition was tradition, and he would not defy the whims of the Omnisiah, only those who dared interpret his words to stifle its people. Regardless, it wasn't uncommon for Tech-Priests to also use what was available to them when they could not find proper materials. Even if that had meant using the skulls of…

What had Verdun thought of them? Simple voidsman, many of whom were statistically destined to die aboard this vessel with an 87% certainty on a daily basis. Much lower than the average 95% of the more important crew. Still. They had fought to defend him from a genestealer incursion aboard a derelict vessel Inquisitor Viola ordered him to scavenge. They were part of his guard, but unlike many who looked upon his form, treated him with a kindness most did not display. Certainly reverence was held by them for him, and it disappointed the emotional side of his brain that they could have been adepts under the Mechanicums thrall. It was not to be, and he spent more than a year trapped aboard the vessel as he sought out the remains of an STC said to be of upmost importance. What it was, was a lie, designed by the genestealers to lure in a ship to attack. To infest. Verdun should have calculated such an outcome sooner, but he did not, blinded by his desire of an untouched STC. The Ship was summarily cleansed after his discovery of course, but before his extraction, he gathered the bodies of his guard and removed their skulls. Was it sentimentality that drove his decision? There was little logic in his decision, though he could justify the allocation of resources so that they would not be wasted, it was not till after that he processed such. Either way, his Servo skulls were important to him. Perhaps it would be good to allocate a small part of his consciousness to ponder such as he maintained command of the vessel. He had little time to debate such problems at the moment.

He turned to see that Emile, the space marine, had not moved. The plight his guest could not understand through his mind as he stared. It was of little matter. He could stand there till death if he chose, but the order was sent and what he requested would arrive soon enough. So Verdun looked back to his empty gaze over the command deck, his many auspex checking every station and every person within, his mind resumed to its current task. Unaware of what the Servo Skull he sent would begin.

As a Servo Skull, which are often ignored by the many crewman of the ship, it lived a simple existence. Such was to accomplish the tasks given to it by its master, and all else was but nonexistent. So it was uneventful then, that the Skull made it to the Psykers quarters within the center of the ship that housed the spare members of the Astropaths. Sealed behind several layers of steel doors, they were kept within what was more akin to a prison with rooms barely similar to the other crewmen. The psychic energy dampened by the thousands of seals built into the sanctums very structure. Added explosives and flame hoses around the walls in case of possession to purge the entire section within moments. As the skull passed the last door, the small group of five looked to see it. They were weary, as all psykers were when within a warp jump. Their minds constantly held at the brink of insanity, not that the Servo Skull cared or understood.

The Skull floated over the group and all but one looked at it in horror. It was not often that any of them were called outside of their quarters, unless of course they were being summoned to replace one of the current astropaths who had died in one of the positions allowed to Psykers. Usually from mental exhaustion or even starvation. The Skull did nothing else however, but float above them, and they knew they had to decide who would go back with it to follow whatever task was given to them. So the group looked at one another, and the usual grumble began.

The eldest and the wisest of the group, a man named Ceres, stood. He had been summoned before and returned unscathed many times, and so he would go. The other psykers were comparatively of less quality than himself and he knew it, though as the little company he had for the majority of his time, they had a place within his sympathies. Most astropaths were given proper training, as he was in the ways of Ordo Atronomica, but these were hardly instructed. This, he knew direly angered the Inquisitor of this ship, and in her rage had killed seven of them to reduce their number upon arrival. He imagined the governor who requisitioned them for her was summarily executed, but he knew well enough not to pry into the minds of the others aboard the ship. So he took on the role of teacher to prepare the others for any task that would be asked of them, a mercy. To ensure that they would not die quickly within their duties and live wholly wasted lives for the Emperor.

"I will go. As always, if I do not return, all of you are expected to fulfill the duties asked of you. Maintain what I have taught you."

The other Psykers only nodded in recognition, and watched as Ceres followed the Servo Skull outside and back into the main hull of the ship where two Stormtroopers waited. Their weapons held tight against their chests, a finger on the trigger and their glaring masks all the indication Ceres needed to understand that they were frightened of him. These were things they would never allow to occur in any other situation, as they were trained well enough to understand that their las-weapons could cause severe damage to the interiors of the ship if they accidentally pulled the trigger. They held it to tightly to their bodies to be able to freely move it on a moment's notice, the glare of their helmets invocative of their gaze not ahead but at him solely as in the light they walked under, had they stared ahead it should have been in shadow.

Most other humans were terrified of Psykers granted, but the Stormtroopers were more weapon than human within the bowls of their minds. The hellish training undergone by them within the Schola terrifying to gaze upon, but it certainly hardened their minds to a fine point. Still, despite all they had gone through, the horrors they saw, Psykers were among the few things that could instill fear within them. For they were able to see deep within the mind, and though many Stormtroopers could not acknowledge consciously, they were terrified of their own existences as nothing but walking weapons who have lost the ability to live as human. Something even the Noble Space Marines grasped. They were but mere husks, their souls long beaten away and eroded into subservience. If they had been of the commissariat, perhaps some figment of their personality, their spark, would still exist. Mayhap, even it would be able to grow anew, but these men around Ceres were nothing but empty husks, little more than deadly servitors programmed through years of torture and instruction.

Ceres smiled. He enjoyed being around such 'people'. They reminded him that despite his own status as an abhuman, a dreaded Psyker, even he was greater. He was more human than others around him. He could still stride as an individual, maintain a unique spirit, be human and feel human urges. It was good to be out and among them.

So they walked, all the way through the many halls and rooms into the command deck. The Servo Skull always ahead of him, and the two Stormtroopers besides him. The crew who saw them stepped to the side until they passed, many thoughts within their minds as they did so. It was all boringly brief and quickly enough they turned back to their own tasks. Otherwise it was an uneventful trip, the scenery around him dark and grim, but welcome to one who had not seen it in nearly three years.

Upon entry to the command deck, the two Stormtroopers stepped away to the side of the door, weapons still held tight. The others did not seem to care of his presence, save the techpriest and the Space Marine who stood on the upper platform of the room. Strangely there was not the Inquisitor in her chair as he had come to expect.

Ceres walked carefully towards the techpriest, who picked up his servo skull and hid it within his robes, without so much as a glance towards it.

"I am Ceres my lords. You summoned me?"

Verdun clicked several times as his neck moved so that he could face him, his body still in place.

"Yes. You were requisitioned at the request of this Space Marine. You will accomplish whatever task he has of you and then he will return you to the sanctum."

Ceres bowed, as was customary.

"Of course sir."

Though he could feel the Space Marines mind, he dared not tread. Though he was curious, he could not deny, to see what was within the mind of such a rare human. One of the few who were not scared of seeing or interacting with Psykers. It was soon to pass thankfully. Ceres preferred not to die because of a foolish decision.

The Space Marine stepped forward.

"I am Emile, of the Oathmarines. Come with me, I have a task for you."

So he did, and in silence Ceres and Emile traveled through the other side of the command deck and into another section of the ship. But as they moved along, Ceres felt something strange. A presence, something different than the warp, but clearly… something.

He stopped in place, within the middle of an empty corridor.

"There is something here, Space Marine."

Emile immediately turned towards him and pulled the bolter he magnetized to the side of his armor. Though it was not wise to use such heavy ordinance within the bowls of a ship, he had to be sure to put down anything immediately. He watched Ceres closely, who held a hand to his forehead. He could only hope he would not say it was within the apothecarium. If so, perhaps it would have been better to have stayed.

"Where?"

Ceres focused hard on what he felt. It was something he had never encountered before. It was not the foul forces of the warp. It couldn't be. This force felt… it felt like a blank. But even that was wrong. A Blank would have induced his mind to revolt its presence, but this one, it seemed to be a blip that merely existed; no harmful intent, no malicious desire, no outward projection, and a connection that held but did not at the same time. As if it only skimmed along and swam untouched by the warp forces that surrounded them, its presence only felt because of its lack of presence within.

Ceres flinched as he stressed his powers further, something dangerous when attempted under warp travel, but whatever this was. He fell forward and on his knee as his head pulsed with a throbbing pain. The Space Marine stormed before him, his bolter aimed at him, surely in the case he was possessed.

Ceres looked up, tired and his breathing heavy.

"I located it my lord. It is within the…"

He coughed as blood spurted out of his mouth onto the metal floor. Emile held one of his hands on his shoulder as it weighed him down.

"Where?"

Ceres steeled his resolve and stood**.** He wiped away at the blood that slid down his mouth, returning to his straight posture.

"It is… within the nearest docking bay… my lord."

Emile searched his mind for the quickest path to the docking bay. Once it was secured, he turned towards the doorway which would led him on his path. He pulled the astropath with him as he flung him over his shoulder, much to the surprise of Ceres, and began to run. The heavy clang of his footsteps smashed along the metal floors as he went and all the crew turned to see him only saw a blur. Even still, it alarmed him enough that word spread and soon Verdun patched a vox transmission into his helmet.

"Emile, I have received word of your unusual behavior. What has happened?"

"The Astropath managed to locate something within the nearest docking bay, 04 in the north western sector. Send Stormtroopers for immediate action there and seal off all doors."

Verdun clicked for several moments before red lights began to flash all across the ship. He had officially brought the ship into lockdown, and all of the seal doors began to shut off every corridor. Emile was quick enough to make it past before they shut, and it was not long until he reached the docking bay, completely devoid of any crewmen. The red lights flashed brightly above them and a blaring alarm rang through the cavernous halls.

Emile dropped Ceres onto the floor who vomited from the trip.

"Was it necessary to…"

Emile only nodded, his bolter now firmly held with both of his hands.

"Yes. I needed you here to help me locate this presence. One cannot be safe enough in a warp incursion."

Ceres shook his head.

"My lord… it isn't from the warp. I know not what it's from…"

Emile looked at him, genuinely surprised at his statement. Was he mad? That couldn't be—

He held up his bolter and fired ahead of him at the spot where a cloaked figure once stood. They were quick enough to dodge the round as they landed several feet away from the blast. The floor busted and ripped where the bolter round exploded.

Emile took no time to continue his assault on the figure as they dotted around the room. He was accurate and every shot hit their intended place, but this figure was far quicker than he was. This was indicative of just how big the threat he had to face was. Few things could out-speed a Space Marine, and such targets had to be dealt with quickly. But such missions usually employed the power of a five man squad, and he was only one. He would have to be tactical.

He fired again, but the figure still managed to dodge as the round hit a pile of crates which promptly exploded. Emile knew he had to maintain his fire to keep such opponents at bay, on the defensive so as to minimize their threat level. This is when another brother would close the distance and surprise them with an assault. Quick enemies usually relied upon their speed to be dangerous, and so rarely had heavy armor. Once surprised they would fall quickly to a precision strike. He could not do both of these at the same time however, so he would have to follow the other protocol.

He strafed left and pushed the figure back towards the corner of the room with shots on either side of it so as to limit the direction they could dodge in his favor. He had to get it close enough to the corner of the room so it would be forced to either charge him or be shot. Once it charged him, he would quickly switch to his combat knife and finish it off as it reached him. A risky maneuver, but one he had to take.

Ceres would not stand idly by either, and managed to stand. He felt the figures presence intensely, and as he brought his powers to bear, he glimpsed something. The figure was connected to someone aboard the ship. A girl. A Psyker, or at least, was once.

The figure noticed the transgression upon the mind, and a single knife was thrown from underneath the black cloak it wore as it shot towards Ceres. It was fast and propelled with enough force it would have ripped through Ceres body, but he managed to pull up a psychic barrier in time that slowed it enough that it stuck into his right shoulder instead.

Emile noticed this event, but could not turn to help the astropath. He could not turn his back on such an opponent. So he continued with his plan as the figure slowly but surely was pushed back into the far corner of the room. Emile reloaded nearly four times, the last of his spare clips strapped to his side. Another knife flew from it, and Emile managed to jut to the side to avoid the brunt of it, only for the knife to slam into the last cartridge of ammunition he had and spill the shells onto the floor.

This figure was smart, and he knew that it waited for him to run out of ammunition. So he would have to use that to his advantage. The figure stood in the corner of the room and Emile pressed forward, his bolter alight with more rounds as he pressed towards them. Then he stopped, for only a moment and pulled up on the bolter to act as if he was out of rounds. Predictably, the figure ran forward for the charge. At the last moment, Emile dropped his bolter and he reached his combat knife. With the figures speed, it would not be able to slow down quickly enough to move out of the way of his blade. It would instead propel itself into it. So Emile held his Knife forward as the figure neared him, only to suddenly disappear in the blink of an eye through a dark portal.

Emile held his knife firmly as he looked around. So it had tricks in its arsenal.

The figure then reemerged in the center of the room and looked at him.

"Well, seems I've bled you dry of your ammunition, Space Marine."

The voice was all but human it appeared to Emile. Still, it was not easy to pull of such trickery, and the speed at which it moved was all but impossible for an average human. Perhaps Eldar. He had spoken once with such xeno before, and he knew they always had a scheme in motion. But they could at the very least be reasoned with.

"Are you an Eldar?"

The figure shook its head as the cloak swayed side to side.

"Those arrogant fools? No. I'm something else entirely. But trust me, I will not seek to use you as an Eldar would. I am not like them. I am… something else."

Emile looked at the astropath behind him who had collapsed from exhaustion.

He turned back at the figure. He had to stall for reinforcements it seemed.

"What are you then?"

The figure sighed.

"You don't need to know. Just trust that I have all of your best interests in mind."

Emile would not simply believe this, not without proof.

"Then give me a reason to believe you. Why are you aboard this ship? Why is it that the astropath say you aren't of the warp?"

The figure stepped backwards.

"Simple really. I'm not from the warp, and trust me, it's easier than you'd think boarding a vessel this large."

Emile stepped forward, knife still in hand.

"You have to provide more."

The figure stepped back again.

"Perhaps another time. It seems your stop is here."

The entire ship shook for all but a moment as the dreary atmosphere that once covered it faded. The Astropath managed to wake as he pushed himself up from the ground, shaky and exhausted.

"W-Were out of the warp… We've returned to real space!"

Emile's attention was pulled to him for all but a second. A second too much to react as he returned his gaze to see the figure step into another dark portal. Only to completely disappear moments later. Emile took a deep breath, sheathing his blade. Whatever that figure was, he needed to find out. Immediately.

Such would be a long time coming however, as there was soon high alert along the bridge as Verdun slammed his hand onto a nearby podium. Their warp jump had been cut short, and the ship was ejected nearly seventy minutes too early. None of the other ships had arrived either, and Verdun had calculated all of the viable outcomes that had occurred within his mental processing. It was at the most, a 99% likely that they were ejected off course in a different section of the Imperium. Given how close they were to their original course, it was calculated to be within the same system at the very least, but such had to be dealt with immediately. Lest the Inquisitor have his head.

He held up a hand.

"Immediate protocols are required! Have all available Astropaths begin contacting the other ships and locating our current position. Also…"

One of the voidsman that was positioned on the command deck, a young man named Ervin, a replacement in case one of the other officers were killed during combat, stood meekly before Verdun. He was simply caught unaware as he tried to find something to do in the mess of a situation the Command Deck was in. Verdun pointed a servo arm at him, which he noticed all too quickly as he cowered back, a bow made before him.

"Go wake the Inquisitor. Immediately!"

The young man swallowed, sweat heavy on his brow as he heard those words.

"B-but L-Lord Techpriest, she had ordered that she was not to be disturbed."

Verdun would have groaned if he still held the physical capability. This young man had seriously caused an infraction against a Techpriest by denying his words. He would be sure to alert the Inquisitor of this, if she didn't kill him for interrupting her sleep.

"Do not deny the words of the acting command of this vessel again. Otherwise, I will have you report to become a servitor by the end of the next imperial cycle."

Thus Ervin got the message and did not respond again, as he started to run in the direction of the Inquisitors quarters, past the mess of voidsmen that filled the halls. He had only hoped he would survive till the end of the day.

Verdun needed to have more direct info of the ships heading, and so he began to move along the Command Deck to the front where Captain Vince sat as he barked orders. It was also clear that he was about ready to break down, such a weakness held by the many unmodified around Verdun. He had the ability to deny such emotions lest the situation require it, unlike them.

Vince gripped his chair tightly so as to prevent it from shaking. He was always terrified of the Inquisitor, as he figured he should, and he had never failed her. Still, she was always hard on him, and whether she simply liked to tease him or otherwise, he was not sure, but he found himself mortified by what had just transpired. Never had such a thing occurred to him in all his service as a Captain, and he was proud of it. But now, hell, what would the Inquisitor think? He was the first to blame. He had to find a scapegoat. Something…

He almost didn't notice as Verdun strode alongside his chair, and held a servo arm to his face.

"Captain, it seems we have found ourselves in quite the predicament."

Vince tried to maintain a cool posture, but found himself strained to speak without stutter.

"Y…yes, it… it seems so."

Verdun had little time to play around this man's ego, and with luck he would recover his mental state within five minutes at a success rate pf 65%, otherwise perhaps he would have to ask the Inquisitor for another captain. Though the captain's record was almost entirely pure, and Verdun suspected that he had little hand in the ships troubles. He would still need to calm him as he could not do so as would his servitors. Besides, he would still prove useful so long as his mental fortitude was adequate.

"Do not allow your weak emotions to sway you. This was not your fault, Captain, and there is a high probability that something dragged us out of the warp purposefully."

Vince took a deep breath. A quick prayer to the emperor for his luck.

"Ah, thank you, Verdun. I was worried for a second, that the Inquisitor— wait, did you say pulled out of the warp? How could that bloody happen?"

Verduns auspex opened and closed in their timely cleansing cycle, as he turned away.

"Be sure to have this ship back in order within twenty minutes captain. Do not ponder anything else."

Vince swallowed as he stood. He understood the TechPriests words clearly.

"All you magots! Get to your fecking chairs, and straighten up this ship or damn you I will put a hole in your skulls personally!"


	6. Chapter 6

**It was soon assured that** the Command Deck was set back into order, as those aboard collected themselves enough. Though they were all veterans in their field, never had any of them experienced such a traumatic escape from a warp jump, and many had feared they were doomed. But as the captain had threatened them all with death, they figured they were relatively safe as each of them knew full and well he had not the stomach to actually do it. He wasn't as foolish as to waste their lives when they knew how to run the ship.

"Yes Captain!"

Verdun returned to the place he originally stood, at the back of the command deck and looked ahead. He watched every member with intense scrutiny lest any error come from their actions. The Machine Spirit of the great vessel was anxious, as it deserved to be. The astropaths had to work quickly, otherwise upon the Inquisitors return to the command deck, they might not have any.

At this time, Ervin, the one who was unfortunately chosen to get the Inquisitor came to the large wooden door's that separated her audience hall and the rest of the ship. He was uncontrollably paranoid by the imposing doors, as he shakily reached out a hand to touch them. The Inquisitor disliked being interrupted whenever she was alone. There were rumors and gruesome tales of those who were in his current predicament. There had been incredibly severe punishments before for disobeying such orders. This time however, she had a guest, and Emperor save his soul, Ervin did not want to know what would become of him now.

Still, he did not fancy becoming a servitor in the thrall of that tech-priest either. He had to face it, he was likely doomed to die. So, bravely, he pushed open the wooden doors with a loud creak that echoed throughout the room. He looked inside to see the primary lights had been turned off, save for the few ambient lights that made it at least visible. At the far back of the room, across a wooden table lined with food Ervin could only have dreamed of, was another door that led directly to the Inquisitors personal quarters. If she wasn't here, then she was in there. So he walked, slowly and with purpose in each step as he inched towards the door. Barely had he managed to squeak a call.

"I-Inquisitor?"

Once he came to the table of food however, he could not help but stare at it. His eyes drawn to the delicacies of which he had never seen. Things that smelled oh, so good. Such an assortment of things he had never seen before, so much more than the usual scrap he was fed…

He felt his mouth water at the thought. All of this was just left out. And here he was, about to give a message to the woman who would likely kill him.

If he was destined to die…

He looked around, at the silence of the room. No-one would notice. Still the paranoid thought that perhaps it was all a trap made him hesitate. Yet he made it this far, and no sign of her. Before he knew it, his hand reached out to grab a strange food, shaped similar to a green orb, with a brown stick that seemed to grow out the top. His hand almost touched it too, when he heard a small crash sound from the heavy door behind him, which instantly made him jump away from the table. His heart easily skipped several beats, and years of his likely short life were gone, but such didn't compare to the next sound he heard.

The door to the Inquisitors personal quarters opened. She stepped out, covered almost entirely by a white bedsheet. The look on her face so rife with frustration and anger that Ervin was positive his fate was sealed.

"What business have you to wake me? For once in the entire time I have been here, I have slept soundly, and then, I awake to finding a voidsman in my audience hall! When I specifically said that I was not to be disturbed! And so, I will give you exactly one response to give me a reason that will not result in your immediate execution. Understood?"

Ervin fell to his knees and bowed, in a desperate bid to pay respect.

"Y-Yes, I was sent by the Techpriest to fetch you because we were pulled out of the warp, and now we're off course and I truly do not want to die, Lady Inquisitor I promise I'll do whatever is necessary, please forgive this offence!"

Viola calmed herself down as she took a deep breath. Well, at least it was something that mattered. This actually was a cause for urgency, and she would have to make sure the ship's crew hadn't gone lax without her. As for this voidsman, she felt merciful today.

"Fine. You are dismissed, voidmsan."

Ervin almost cried on the spot. He was free?

"Y-yes, Inquisitor. Thank you."

He stood up and slowly backed out of the room, as the door shut behind him. In a bow the whole way, not even a glance in her direction. The poor sod. Viola smirked as she shook her head. Next time she needed a boarding crew for a space hulk or something similarly deadly, she had her fist member already 'volunteered'. But for now, she needed to settle things.

She was surprised as Reginald came from behind her and held her softly around her waist.

"Seems we have business to attend to."

Viola blushed.

"Yes, we do. We could not expect play to last forever."

Reginald nodded.

"True. Very well, shall we get dressed then?"

Viola smiled.

"Of course. But aren't you worried about your House?"

Reginald rested his head on her shoulder.

"I am, greatly. But, I choose to have faith, and there is not much I can do now. However, part of being a lord is knowing when to be calm. Though I will need to send a message as soon as possible."

Viola laid her head onto his chest.

"I'll be sure to secure an astropath for you. After all, you are my guest."

"Thank you."

The two of them shared another long and sensual moment together, before they prepared themselves for the coming events. They were each impressed by the others ability to remain calm, even through this. Then again, they weren't the normal chaff. They were more, and as more, it was up to them to lead others through troubling times.

These troubling times all that were in mind as Emile made his way to the apothicarium where Eli and the young psyker girls was. He had to make sure that he was alright, and that nothing else had managed to slip through. Unfortunately, the astropath he was with could not continue on without rest, and so he had to go alone.

He came to the room and entered with a baited anticipation. Much to his relief and surprise, the scene before him had not changed at all since he left. Save for the Stormtroopers around the doors with their weapons raised. Eli still at his place besides the girl as she slept. Upon seeing Emile, Eli stood up and with an enthusiasm that had recently been forgone, he greeted his brother.

"Emile! I am glad to see you. She survived, Emile, she lived through the warp jump. She was not corrupted. Truly… our chapter is correct."

Emile only looked at the girl behind him. As before, she had the same peaceful look upon her face. If the astropath was believed however, she was of no threat. He did not see her in his mind, and in fact, her presence seemed different now. Regardless, it was good to see that Eli had awoken from his slump, and hence he would be back to his full combat readiness within little time.

"I am glad, Eli, that your gamble had paid off. But, I warn you not to put us within such a position again."

Eli keeled back, but he knew he had to expect such strictness from Emile. He had deserved it after all, but for this one occasion, he was happy that he managed what he did.

"Of course, brother. I promise you."

Emile looked at the girl for a long period of time. Eli knew of his gaze, but he stayed enthusiastic about it.

"Eli, now what are we to do with her?"

Eli placed a hand at the brim of his helmet.

"I am not sure Emile. But, if she was able to withstand the perils of warp travel while unconscious, she is clearly a powerful psyker, easily worth the Imperium's time—the inquisitors."

Emile nodded, though he doubted Viola would approve.

"That is true. But she is yet to wake, and so, we will have best wait on any decisions."

Eli then noticed what he should have immediately, but the signs of battle were on Emile's armor. A small scrape alongside the part of his suits armor where he once held his bolter clips. Emile would not go anywhere without being readily armed, and more so, even a simple scratch upon a Space Marines armor warranted serious inspection. It was shameful for him not to have noticed, and worse for missing combat beside his battle brother.

"What had happened, Emile?"

Emile sighed, grateful his young brother resumed his senses.

"There was something aboard this ship, which dragged us out of warpspace. Whether it was of the warp, I know not, but from what the astropath had told me, it was not. I had combated it, but to my shame it managed to escape my grasp."

Eli looked to the floor. He should have been by his brother's side. He could not lose sight of his duties again.

At the far corner of the room, Simmons, the apothecary from before scratched his head as he held onto his data slate. This situation was all wrong. Something was odd, and he expected full and well that the girl should have died. Either she had the Emperor's grace, or something else was going on. He was more than frustrated however, at his humiliation before the space marine, whom he was so assuredly would be wrong in the girls fate. For this reason he said nothing, and remained at the back of the room as a silent observer. Either way, there was still a chance she would simply die, or if he had to, he would end her life to prove himself right.

Just as his thought had ended, the entire room was filled with shock. The girl opened her eyes as she jolted up into a seated position. She turned to face the apothecary, and gave him a look of disgust.

"You attempt to kill me, and I will be sure you know what eternal suffering is."

All of the Stormtroopers turned to face her within seconds, their weapons raised, only stopped from firing as the Space Marines stood between them. Eli and Emile exchanged a glance between one another, and then at the girl.

"You are awake…"

The girl smiled as she looked at Eli.

"Thank you, my angel, for protecting me. I will forever hold the Emperors light close to my chest because of your kindness."

Eli knew then she was not corrupted, but genuine. Though he was surprised that she knew his name. Emile on the other hand, opted to remain on his cautious path. Yet he also decided to give the girl the benefit of the doubt.

"Bring in a psyker, and he will know if she is clean."

Eli turned to face his brother once more, but the girl cut him off.

"Do not worry, Eli. It is right for him to be cautious. Bring in a psyker, and you will see I am not possessed or tainted by the warps filth. You will see I am as clean as I can be."

Emile turned to the closest Stormtrooper.

"Go fetch the most available astropath, immediately."

The Stormtrooper acknowledged without a word, and left. Emile only wished he dragged that astropath he was with along with him here when he had the chance. Still... He turned to the girl as she smiled softly at him. He had to know what was different about her.

Such things would have been of great importance to the Inquisitor as well, though she had larger things to worry about. She and Reginald had dressed in their uniforms, and he accompanied her to the command deck. She had ordered an astropath to contact his ship as they made their way, and she fully expected it to be ready by the time they arrived. As the doors to the command deck opened, all of the voidsmen inside froze up for the tense moments they expected after. They were all terrified of her, the only real command figure they actively worried would kill them for insubordination. So it was only fitting they would react this way. Of course, they all did their best to continue their work, because they knew full and well, they would be shot on the spot if any of them stopped in her presence.

Verdun turned to face the Inquisitor and the High lord and pilot of an Imperial Knight, as he gave his obligatory bow.

"Lady Inquisitor. I have maintained the command deck to 90% efficiency while you have been gone. I hope you enjoyed your time away, while I was left in command."

Viola rolled her eyes. She knew that Verdun liked to make his comments.

"Yes, I did. Now, catch me up to everything that has currently occurred."

The techpriest whined from his metal gears turning inside. A sound only made when he was overly frustrated.

"I apologize, Inquisitor. I will refrain from personal references to your time when conducting work. I ask that I be allowed to return to the ships heart, where I may monitor the spirits health. I am certain the Machine Spirit would like to be fully scanned after such a traumatic shock. The captain will be sufficient enough to explain to you what has happened."

Viola stepped onto her chair as she sat down, and crossed a leg over her knee. She was back in command once more and the situation had to be addressed with an iron heel.

"Very well, go on. But, before you go Verdun, where is Emile and Eli?"

Verdun only stared blankly at her for several moments before he turned away again.

"They are dealing with a problem that the captain will fill you in upon request."

Viola only glared at him for several moments, but knew it was best not to push him further. She needed him after all, and if he was in a good mood he would be more productive.

"Fine."

As Verdun passed Reginald, he held out a hand.

"Verdun, might I ask a request of you?"

Verdun turned to face him.

"What is it, High Lord of house Valor?"

Reginald did not like the thought of his Knight being alone through this, and the machine spirit inside would grow restless if it was not tended to. He did not like the thought of allowing this Tech-Preist working extensively on his knight either, as his sacristan was the person he trusted most. Yet he recalled how he had allowed minor repairs while aboard the transport, and his Knights machine spirit did not act out violently. Thus, he had to ask further assistance from this disciple of the mechanicus.

"I require you to begin repairs on my Knight, and to sooth its spirit if it has become restless. Such an event as being violently ripped from the warp has certainly caused it to stir."

Verdun would have smiled if he could, but he could not, and so he could only stare blankly into the eyes of the Knights pilot. This was a chance he would not give up, and time to work on the holy machine only made his emotional receptors release pleasure pheromones.

"Very well, Lord Reginald. I will do as you ask as soon as I check on the ships spirit."

From the other end of the command deck, one of the voidsman hailed out to the others.

"The long range sensors have contacted another ship within the vicinity. It is of the Mechanicus."

Viola stood from her seat. The Mechanicus? Out in the frontier.

"Hail them at once!"

The crew began to work, and Verdun, while interested in the new development, had better things to work upon. He would meet his fellow disciples of the Omnisiah if he so required it.

The Astropath that was requested for Reginald soon arrived with guards, and he was pulled aside to one of the consoles along the command deck. Sternly Reginald instructed the message that was to be sent. Other messages from the other ships began to pour into the other communication arrays as well, and the command deck was nothing but abuzz with activity.

When the mechanicus ship entered range, the large screen in front of Violas Chair flashed to life. The reception was foggy at first, but soon evened out as it revealed the figure of what was clearly a Magos within the Mechanicus. Strapped into a large pillar through several hoses that protruded from its black cloak, he was hutched over and massive in size. The bottom trim of his black cloak white as it flowed freely downwards. A color scheme that was a stark difference from that of the common red. Its face was nothing but entirely metal, five green omnispecs in a row along the center of its smoothed face, and a sixth single large one above them. A large cylinder hat over its head, also colored black as metal obstructions broke from its cloth. The rest of its body hidden underneath the cloak, save for the several servo arms that swayed freely besides it.

The Magos spoke softly, the metallic hum of its voice made surprisingly pleasant. A clearly male one at that, though the distinction barely noticeable when in tandem with the rest of him.

"What reason does an Inquisitor have to contact our ship?"

Viola knew she needed to assert herself with the mechanicus, and so disregarded the question. She was already more than interested about what they were doing here.

"Of what forgeworld are you?"

The Magos many eyes clicked open and closed.

"Very well, Inquisitor, it seems you do not wish to answer questions. We are an expeditionary ship of the Dark Anvil. Our forge world has recently been constructed around the sector of Schola Prime sector. And before you follow your inquiry up, we are considered, a branch, of the main Mechanicas. Something unique to this section of space."

Viola grinned. From his words she deciphered who they were. The Dark Anvil. This was perfect, especially to know the emergence of a forgeworld within the sector they were en-route to. Viola had heard of this sub group of the Mechanicus, though she had never interacted with them before. They were a favorite of some of the other Inquisitors she knew, as unlike the majority of the Mechanicus, they were known to be more… unchained by tradition. Certainly they were within the limits of the Imperium, and in truth, their decreased tradition made it easy for them to mass produce weapons and vehicles of extraordinary quality as well as maintain some manner of progress. Such was considered Heresy by the majority of the Mechanicus of course, but they didn't need to know about them. They were an important resource, and from what she was told, they had been responsible for major breakthroughs in STC recovery, which was more than welcomed by the Inquisition. So, they were kept behind layers of secrecy from the Mechanicus, and as they chose to remain within the frontier of the Imperium, they were rarely interacted with. Time to play diplomacy.

"I am glad to hear of such a forgeworlds creation. As it were, we are headed to that sector currently."

The Magos rested quiet as he no doubt began to calculate many things. A whir of mechanical processes all that was heard for minutes, before he answered.

"And for what reason? I have answered your questions, Inquisitor."

Viola kept her smirk, a hint of frustration behind her cool demeanor. She had almost forgotten the two caveats of the Dark Anvil. They were notoriously kept to themselves, and they were fiercely protective of themselves, their allies, and strangely, their citizenry as well. Perhaps that is why they and the Faceless Legion were so tightly inter-wound. Still, she had a lot more questions to ask, and a few more things to set up.

"So then, might I ask what it is you are expeditioning for?"

The Magos remained silent again as he calculated no doubt. After several clicks, he tilted his head forward, closer to the screen.

"To what end does it interest you, Inquisitor?"

Viola frowned.

"Can I not be curious? Surely, it must be important."

The Magos eyes blinked again, and he tilted his head to the side. One of the few ways most of the robotic bodies of the mechanicus could emote defiance. An act she saw Verdun do many times before.

"Unless you provide us with something in return, I will withhold such answers."

Viola had him where she wanted him.

"Well then, I suppose I could exchange something of much greater value to you. There is an Imperial Knight House which is going to lay claim to the feudal world within your sector. And I am sure, you will want to be on good terms."

The Magos' prosthetic eyes widened as open as their mechanical limitations allowed. The Magos leaned closely towards the screen, and in the background Viola managed to spot his servo arms begin to take notes.

"This is indeed pleasing news. Is it of the Questor Mechanicus?"

Viola's smirk turned into a grin.

"No, but I am sure you prefer it that way."

The Magos narrowed his bionic eyes at her, though the rigid gesture amused her more than it intimidated.

"Yes. Am I to assume you have had a hand in this development?"

Viola nodded.

"But of course, my fair mechanical friend. And as such, I even have the High Lord of the house aboard my ship. I am sure, you would be more than happy to devise a deal with him. After all, they are going to need a forgeworld to produce their suits, and all that entails."

The Magos took no time to calculate this time. There was no way he would deny such an opportunity.

"Very well, if it would please you, I request—"

Viola snapped a finger as she shook her head.

"My answer first, Magos."

The Magos screeched his gears in frustration.

"Very well, Inquisitor. This is an exploritor ship sent to investigate a small space hulk that is within this sector. It was intended on being a concealed operation, but you have caused an error in this plan."

A space hulk. Viola knew such things were dangerous, and only the most serious of issues would rouse any sect of the imperium to delve into them. This was no different.

"And what exactly do you hope to find?"

The Magos leaned back, knowing he had to play to this situation.

"Perhaps a long lost STC. But further details are unknown. One of the hulks wrecks was identified as a ship from the golden age, and has thus been given maximum priority."

Viola took a deep breath. Maximum priority, he said. That was rich, considering it was meant to be covert.

"Then why was the Inquisition or any of the other branches informed?"

"You know the answer already, Inquisitor. The Mechanicus does not need to report to anyone but the Mechanicus and the Omnisiah."

Viola liked what she heard. Perhaps this deal would be sweeter than she thought.

"Very well then, I offer my ship and my crew as help in this little expedition of yours."

The Magos eyes glowed dark red for but a moment, a loud gush sound followed shortly after, likely from one of the needles implanted into his head to contain aggression.

"I refuse."

Viola shook her head, enjoying this little game.

"Then perhaps, I can convince the Knightly house to station elsewhere."

The Magos only glared, but as he did before, was likely deep in computation.

"Very well. What else do you require?"

Viola rested her arms on her knees, her head on her hands as she leaned toward him.

"Simple. It is beneficial to me that you and House Valor get along well, and if you can come to an agreement, it will be a boon to the Schola Prime Sector. And I am assuming you can open channels to the forces of the Faceless Legion as well, correct?"

The Magos nodded.

"Of course. As predicted, you wish to create a symbiotic relationship between the three forces of Schola Prime. It would certainly prove effective, and both production and output capabilities will enhance greatly. Still, I have not enough information to determine why you wish to come along on this expeditionary voyage. Certainly, it would certainly be more productive to head to the Schola Prime sector and begin full diplomatic talks. So what ulterior motive have you concocted?"

Viola frowned. These techpriests and other members of the mechanicum always were far too good at running their brains, but the least she could do was humor him.

"Fine. Call it a diplomatic voyage in addition to this expeditionary endeavor. I am sure you can settle things with House Valor, and then, upon arrival to the sector talks will go much more smoothly. Of course, the other reason is simply because I want to know if anything is found. Trust me, as an Inquisitor, you learn to be curious of what others seek. Do not be worried however, I will put forth a boarding party and any additional resources that you require to complete your task. And then, once it is done, we will be free to return to the sector as allies, or if we find something, as allies with a common gain in our midst. Does this please you?"

The Magos let out steam from underneath his robes.

"Then it is agreed. May the Omnisiah watch over this pact. I expect we will be seeing more of each other in the coming weeks, Inquisitor. We have nearly a three months journey to reach the hulk, and another two months on return to the Schola Prime sector. So, if you would, I would like to begin talks with the High Lord of House Valor as soon as possible."

Viola grinned.

"Of course, Magos."

Her plan was right on track.

As always, there were other plans that were in much the same vain. In the apothecarium, Eli and Emile waited with the girl, whom they had finally learned was named Erina Pendleton, for the astropath to come. The Stormtroopers as usual kept watch, and the apothecary sweated heavily with frustration and anxiety. The girl had read his thoughts, and though he had seen psykers before, he had not done something to deserve their scorn as he had to her. They were able to do such horrid things to the body if it suited them, and he had known even low level psykers to be able to easily kill a normal human. His only chance was for the astropath to deem her unsafe and be swiftly executed, but even then…

He looked to her as she looked back at him with a smile. A smile for Emperor's sake! What was this girl? He had never seen someone so serene in his apothecarium, especially after an event such as the one she had gone through; barely escaping a plague ridden world. Emperor be damned if he was—

Erina tilted her head.

"Tsk, tsk, you shouldn't take the Emperors name in vain, Simmons."

Simmons, shrieked as he held onto his head. He had lived this long, and he was damned if he would die this early! Humans should have to live far longer than this.

Erina frowned.

"You are crazy, aren't you? And I thought I would go crazy."

Emile looked at her carefully from behind his mask. He had no idea that she was this powerful of a psyker, yet, something was wrong. There was not the horrible feeling that exuded from the mere presence of all psykers. There was not the nervousness of possession that seemed to hang over all psykers. This girl seemed to be content, almost what one could call happy. This was not the normal behavior for a psyker, and it troubled him greatly. From such a diminutive state to this confident face, he was uncertain if this was even the same girl. And so he watched.

Erina could read all of this from him of course, and she was happy that she could. She hadn't changed at all, but rather, her eyes were opened. She gave up the thing that made her a psyker, and she accepted the gifts provided by whatever the figure she saw was. It did not hurt, and it was in all but a moment, but she felt free for the first time in her life. It was only right that she be happy, that she be able to express something that wasn't dread or fear. She had a new master now, though the figure outright refused to let her call him that. She would forever be grateful to him. He shared with her the plans he had, and she would do anything in her power to ensure that it came to pass. Certainly, there would be some problems she was sure, there always was, but what he told her made sense. He had good intentions, and she would stay true to them, even if she couldn't live to see the fruits of her labor. She would lay the seeds for the plan to fall into place, and in return he promised her a happy life in this world, and a promise for a greater one for her descendants. Not that she could have ever dreamed or even planned for such things before.

Her attention drifted as the astropath came into the room, and the mood around her was clearly tense. What bothered her however, and the figure told her it would, was that the only person whom she could not read was the dirty Psyker, whom still connected himself so strongly to that foul thing that was the warp.

The astropath was Ceres, the same from before whom had assisted Emile. He was the first found by the Stormtrooper sent to fetch one, despite his shoulder wound. Thankfully it was a minor wound, though it still stung deep in his flesh, but he could return to usefulness. When he entered, he was shocked to recognize Erina's face as the one in his vision. Yet he was all but confounded on something else.

"This girl… she…"

The entire room looked to him in anticipation of what he was going to say. He knew he could not say it. Despite his hesitance to do so, he did.

"She's no psyker. She has barely a prescence in the warp at all."

As he looked at her, it was as if she was a wisp, a playful ghost, yet at the same time something was there. A soul still clearly existed, but it seemed young-new almost-very nearly entirely separated from the warp. This was madness. Absolute madness! What this meant, he did not know, but he knew it was up to him to figure it out.

"What are you?"

Erina frowned.

"I am Erina Pendleton, and no I am not a psyker. I… don't know what happened to me. Please, sir Astropath… tell me what happened."

She lied. Something she would have never dared do before. Truly, this was a blessing.

Emile looked to Ceres, and then to Eli who was just as confounded, and then to the Stormtroopers who merely stood by as they were trained to do. They did not think after all, but merely did as told. The apothecary however, had the last straw as he started to walk forward.

"What the bloody 'ell is this! Huh? She… she knew what I was thinking, I swear to you! If she wasn't a… a mad Psyker, then… then…"

He shook his head and clenched his fists.

"Fine! Blast it. I will take this into my own hands!"

He attempted to rush the medical bed, and though he managed to press his hands onto her throat, he was pulled of swiftly by the Stormtroopers and thrown onto the floor. As they knew little restraint, four of them beat him with kicks to his body and knocks by the butt of their weapons. Eli acted swiftly, but even in such short time, as the Stormtroopers stopped and pulled away the apothecary was a bloody mess. He only spouted grumbles on the floor.

"Get him out of here, and into another apothecarium. He will suffer for his crime later."

Two of the Stormtroopers acknowledged and dragged him away, past Ceres, who had been accustomed to seeing such things. Then he turned once more to the girl to see her frowning at the display, but she did not seem to be in any state of discontent either. Almost as if she was disappointed that the man had not died. But he could not be sure, as her thoughts were walled away from him, kept away by some power he did not want to not cross.

Emile had no words for what he had just learned, and though he was relieved of the possibility she was a daemon in disguise, he now had to consider something else. If she was not a psyker, then what was she now?

"Erina. Listen to me, and answer swiftly. You are a Psyker, yes?"

She shook her head and bowed, though her bruised body ached at the movement.

"No, my liege. I am not."

Emile thought to himself and calculated what he could from this. Perhaps they had all viewed this from the wrong angle. They simply assumed she was a psyker, and there was one possibility they had not considered; she was never a psyker at all. They had never confirmed it either way, as she was unconscious through the entire endeavor as they escaped the planet.

"Girl. Why were you lined up with the psykers? Tell me the truth."

He looked to Ceres, who straightened himself as if on instinct.

"You make sure she does, psyker."

Ceres nodded, unwilling to admit that he could not see into her mind.

"O-Of course."

Erina took a deep breath as she thought back to it. She was lined up with…

"It was because my mother was a psyker. We were pulled from the line and dragged out to that part of the courtyard. They said we were all deemed to die. My mum, she… she tried to tell them I wasn't, but the soldiers didn't care. They said it would be a shame to let a daughter go on without her mother, and that they would take no chances. So, here I am…"

Eli took all of her words for truth, and he felt sympathy for her. As much as his space marine physiology would allow, but enough that he deemed what she said true.

"That is a cruel fate indeed."

Emile could only sigh, and as he looked at the Astropath Ceres, who said nothing, he had to assume she was telling the truth. Not that this entirely pleased or displeased him. It still was very much unsettled.

"Very well. I will be sure to find a way to provide for you while aboard this ship, Erina, for all you have been put through. Understand that you may need to speak with the Inquisitor, and she will be far harsher than I. However, I will ensure that you be well cared for."

Erina began to tear up. This was much kinder than she had expected to be received.

"T-Thank you, my liege! I… I know not what to say…"

Emile only looked at her, the uncertainness of her still bothered him. But in truth, he was also humbled by this outcome. Most of which for Eli, who would have been crushed had she been required to be put down after all the effort. Still…

"Now, how did you know what the apothecary thought?"

Erina shook her head profusely as she looked down into the sheets.

"I-I am sorry my liege, I did not meant to cause such problems. I… overheard things while I was unconscious. It was like a dream, and I… I knew he did not like me. I became fearful of him, and when I woke up, I did not wish to remain silent. And I merely wished to play with him because he thought I… I was a psyker. It seemed to scare him, so I…"

Emile watched as tears fell from her eyes, and though he could not feel sad for her, she seemed genuine. Aside, the apothecary was in a mental state that was close to breaking it seemed, given his nervous breakdown, and so it would seem right that she would be able to create panic within it. He also assumed that most regular humans would jump at the chance of holding authority over those who would hurt them or cause them fear. So, he could not entirely blame her. But he would not accept such trickery again.

"Very well then, Erina. Do not do such things again, or you will be punished."

Erina nodded, frightened by his commanding presence.

"Y-Yes my liege."

He then held a hand onto Eli.

"It seems Eli, that in the end, things worked out well. But I expect this to be the last time you do something of this sort. Understood?"

Eli nodded and pat a hand to his chest.

"I swear to you, brother."

"Very well then. Let us finish with our debt to her, and return to duty."

"Right."


	7. Chapter 7

**As the Magos had told her**, the journey took nearly three months' time to reach the space Hulk. Luckily the construct hadn't drifted too far from its estimated course when the found it. It was precisely as Viola had hoped. In that time she had spent the majority with Reginald as they roomed together in her private quarters. Though she had not but met him so short ago, his company was well liked, preferable to the dreadful loneliness of her position. They had also spent many nights in private 'discussion' as she explained to her bridge crew, and what she had hoped to pass had come to effect. As safety, these periods always took place out of the warp. Soon enough, she would be able to retire. Still, she had to maintain command of the ship, else it fall into disarray and had discussed much with the Arch Magos of the Dark Anvil Exploritor ship. Though he preferred to talk with Reginald, as was fine by her. He told her all she needed to know, so nothing was lost on her. Still, she grew frustrated with the Magos repeated refusal to have a face to face conversation aboard her ship, not that he had one in the traditional sense. Regardless, she had been far more passive towards her crew as well, and it bothered her that she did not punish them as often as she used to. The fear she instilled in them of failure seemed to work fine on its own without her it seemed, but even then, at moments she would get glimpses of the crew's utter shock at her merciful attitude as of late. Perhaps she would have to be more rigid once more. As for her companions Emile and Eli, she had quite the conversation and relief from Elis exploit. The girl was not a psyker after all, and though she made sure to press hard with her psychic screenings, she showed no signs of corruption. Certainly would have been easier had she died, but as Eli seemed to be happy with the outcome she did not say anything. May the Emperor bless her bleeding heart! But, seeing as the girl proved to be no more useful than even the servitors aboard the vessel, and Emile's insistence that she be 'cared for' she decided to relent and allow the girl to board within the officers sector of the ship. There were several spare rooms she had intended to fill, so for now she would remain there. She was on constant surveillance of course, just for precaution, but hardly had she left her room. Perhaps she would give her a visit later, and give her a scare for some amusement if the coming proceedings with the Magos proved… aggravating.

Reginald enjoyed his time with Viola as well. It was a far cry from the rigidity of his Houses traditions, though he knew he would have to return soon. Hopefully, he would not return alone, and he suspected that Viola intended the same. He enjoyed their intensive conversations, and their battles played out with words. The ability to talk without being above the people who spoke to him was refreshing. They were far more interesting than many he had had, and far more challenging as well. She was his equal after all. Though, in his off time he made sure to check in on his Knight house with the dreadful astropaths provided to him. Much to his expectations, they reported in that they had quickly completed conquest of the feudal world that was promised to them. It seemed Lord Hektor made quite the impression as well, as he quickly rose in fame amongst his knights. This pleased him greatly, and it was joyous to his ears that they promised him that the planet would be completely fit for their Knightly House upon his arrival. Though he kept his meetings with the Magos secret, save from his favored Knight Varus and Lord Hektor. He wanted to surprise the rest of his house with a well-deserved reward upon his return. With luck, they would be able to regrow their numbers and add at least a hundred precepts into the house by the next Terran year.

As for his diplomatic meetings with the Magos of the Black Anvil, they went surprisingly well. The Magos, as expected, was more than eager to be able to work with a Knightly House, as they should. What surprised him was that the Magos never requested that he or his house turn fealty to the Omnisiah, but he did not question it. It was likely they were a sect away from the main cult. The Magos and him talked very poignantly, and did not sway from the discussion of trade and production of suits. His one and only ire, was that he had to disclose his houses long running secret. He had not wanted to originally, and his pride almost made him foolish by not doing so. He had to concede that they were unable to do anything with the several STCs that detailed how to construct each variant of the Imperial Knights used by House Valor, a treasure held so high and secret, only he and he alone knew of their existence. As every High Lord of House Valor did. They were stored safely aboard their ship, maintained with the upmost of care. He could still recall the first time he saw them, shortly after their escape from their crumbling home world. His father knew of the coming cataclysm and had already moved the sacred STCs into the ship. Such precious artifacts, yet wasted in containment if they were not used, and Reginald knew his sacristans could expertly repair the Knights, but none had the skill or the resources to construct the holy machines. Few likely knew how they worked, and only through their rituals were able to perform the rights which allowed intensive repairs.

The Magos on the other hand was the head of an entire forge world, and he would have the capabilities to produce the suits on mass. They already proceeded in the construction of the mighty BaneBlades and Doomhammers for their allies The Faceless Legion. So they would likely have the facilities to create a Knight foundry as well. It was a difficult decision despite this, but he had little choice if he wished his house to prosper once more and so revealed the existence of the STC's. As expected the Magos was overwhelmed with excitement, such an odd sight from one more man than machine. Soon after, most everything he asked for was accepted as long as they were allowed to use the STC's. Of course, he made sure to make it clear that in handing them over, the only house they would ever supply would be House Valor, and their secret would stay between them and only them. The Magos didn't hesitate and signed what he called, a Contract Permina, which was somehow written into his mechanical form which would kill him should he ever betray the contract. Though Reginald did not take this as complete truth, and maintained that if it ever came that they betrayed his trust, he would wipe out the forgeworld itself. For extra protection, he also insisted that a selection of his knights, his most trusted knights, be the ones to protect the forges and maintain a presence among the forgeworld. This seemed, fortunately, an unlikely outcome. But Reginald would forever be cautious with those of the Mechanics, for though they loved all machines, he knew their curiosity was an even larger driving force.

Still, he had secured a stable trade of food production to the forgeworld in exchange for the resources to fortify House Valors new world, a tithe of Imperial Knights to be created and sent to his keep, munitions, adepts to be trained by his sacristans in the ways of repairing the knights and several techpriests who would assist in the repairs and holy rights of them. All in all, his house was secured, but he knew he gave away a large asset to do so. He would not regret this decision however, and would instead do whatever necessary to maintain this new symbiotic relationship his house formed with this Dark Anvil. There was no out to this.

The others aboard the ship lived out their daily lives in relative normalcy, including Eli and Emile who returned to their daily regimen of training and tradition. They had not seen Erina since Viola allowed her to remain within the officers sector aboard the ship, and Emile was all the more content for it as Eli returned to his normal self. Still, he remained in contact with the Astropath whom he had helped, as he periodically searched for any signs of the entity which attacked him during their first warp transit. Eli assisted in this, and together scoured the ship for any signs of it, but none were found. Troubling indeed.

Erina on the other hand lived happily as she lazed around her massive room. It was large enough that she could stand straight, her hands extended, and not even touch the ceiling. She had a bed which was so soft, she imagined it was what the clouds of home were like, and would fall asleep without a care. She had books, real tangible books that were laid on a small desk. Food was brought to her daily, and it was so delicious it would send her to tears. None of things had she had before on her cursed world. None. Truly she was blessed, and for fact she knew she was. Sure, she was constantly being watched, but it did not matter to her. She was able to live in such leisure, in such comfort she would never have imagined before. All thanks to the deal she made, and in repayment she would be certain to fulfill her task.

She had great access to all those around her, and she could freely see their thoughts. It was fluid, free and unimpeded as she traversed them without the need of that vile warp. She even learned to read from this power she had. She could hardly contain her glee as she picked up one of the books in her room and read the first page, a manifesto of the Imperial truth. Still, she was told to maintain her kind soul, and so she would. She had to humble herself, and she would not let all that has happened to her corrupt her sense of virtue. Her masters promise that she would be severely punished, and everything taken lest she become corrupted by her powers and position, kept her grounded and calm. After all, she simply wanted to live the rest of her life in comfort, raise a family like she dreamed as a child before it was crushed by her mother, and die peacefully. That was all that she wanted.

On this particular day however, everyone was active and ready for whatever came their way. Viola and Reginald stood at the helm of the command deck, besides her chair as they looked at the screen before them. Verdun right below them as he glimpsed in awe of the sight. Erina was in her room, for once barred from leaving due to a ship wide lockdown, not that she intended to leave, knowing of the presence of the behemoth of mashed ships before them. Emile and Eli in hanger bay A, where they prepped themselves and a small assortment of the ship's crew for their coming mission. They had come across the space hulk, to which the Magos of the exploratory ship had led them, and whatever lied ahead was uncertain.

Though space hulks were rarely safe, from the distance of their ships they could remain in relative safety. But, Viola knew better than to trust such presumptions around such a precariously volatile thing as a space hulk. They were unpredictable, and though she had never set foot upon them, she had been attached to many groups which had. Few of them returned, and she remembered starkly, several those that did she had to summarily purge out of mercy. She would not risk anything, not now, and so her ship was put under lockdown. The distance between her ship and the space hulk set as far away as the transport range would allow. The Magos' ship did much the same, and within the hour the two ships would be within range to allow a temporary docking between them. The Magos Exploritor ship was small, nearly half the size of hers. Still, it was likely armed to the teeth, and there was certainly a heavy amount of Skiitari and other mechanicus assets held within. Though, as she had promised, she had set together a team from her crew to assist in the boarding of the hulk. By the astropaths predictions, it would likely be another year before the hulk disappeared once more. Viola knew this meant the number was closer to several terran months at the latest and one at the earliest. So, whatever they had come for, they needed to retrieve quickly, and then leave.

Reginald and Viola looked in awe of the hulk through the screen before Violas chair. It was a sight to behold, certainly, in its own twisted way. An amalgamation of ships, debris, and technology lost to time curled into a massive ball akin to that of a moon. As it drifted aimlessly through the abyss of space. In and out of the warp, it would travel with no master at its helm, and held both untold numbers of horrors, as well as treasures within for those persistent enough. For this task, she could not afford but to devote her largest assets, Eli and Emile, to join the boarding group. The others an assortment of her most skilled guardsman and a small assortment of the Stormtroopers she had on hand. This was enough to please the Magos, who promised to dole out an equally as impressive force, as well as the means necessary by which to contain any data that was found.

Verdun knew all of this, as he had paid close attention to the conversations between the Magos and Viola. He had grown intrigued by this Dark Anvil, which Viola appeared to know much about. Though he would not ask her, so as not to overstep her human boundaries. Still, what he heard intrigued him, and this Dark Anvil seemed no less than borderline heretical to the main faith, but in such a way that did not seem wrong to Verdun. The majority of the Mechanicum was likely heretical in some way, and by its very founding was in the eyes of the greater imperium. Yet, this Dark Anvil held to the pursuit of this knowledge, knowing full well the ramifications of an STC aboard a Dark Age ship. He calculated, they would not reveal it to anyone else, and he ran simulation after simulation within his own mind to see if he would either, given similar parameters. In all of them, he decided to keep the STC to himself. So how could he logically blame them for such desires? Technology was a precious and dangerous commodity, a holy virtue bestowed upon them. To tamper was to risk destruction, to deface that which worked was heresy, and to misuse meant naught but death on a scale unimaginable. They could invent, repair and study, but to do such things in a time so fraught with conflict was unthinkable. The Mechanicum at large knew the reality. Technology was a force not to be sought lightly, but to be preciously protected and learned from, so that the knowledge would not teeter and fade away...

So Verdun waited for his chance to speak with the Magos, and as he did so, thought of the possibilities before him. If an STC was truly found, his loyalties would certainly be in question. Both Viola and Reginald had managed to decipher as much from their odd observations of him, but they each had thought of their own ways to use such intentions to their own advantage. After all, the more allies they could muster the greater it was.

At that moment, the screen changed as the one from before shrunk to a fraction of its size and made way for the vox link to the Magos himself. His appearance unchanged from the last time they had seen him.

"Very well, Inquisitor. Are we ready to proceed?"

Viola nodded her head as she stood up from her seat.

"Whenever you are, Magos."

The Magos clicked his neck several times, and then raised his metallic hand.

"Then, operation 101010101010110 is ready to begin. Launch all direct drill transports now!"

Viola nodded as she pressed the Vox Button on the side of her chair that linked directly to the comms. system all across her ship.

"Begin Operation Divine Excavation immediately. All penetration transports, finish final preparations and then fire."

The Magos seemed pleased enough by her cooperation thus far, and so relaxed back into whatever was below him, if anything was there.

"Good. All coordinates are set, Inquisitor, and we will convene again in approximately one hour, two minutes and fifty-nine seconds when the transports have breached the hull of the hulk. We will then monitor all progress as it is made through the divine equipment provided to my Skiitari and servitors. The techpriest that I have chosen to further aid and represent myself in this operation will arrive shortly with his contingent. He will be invaluable in our coordination efforts, and as promised, he had signed a Contract Permina that no trickery will be done to your ship. But I will say, that we would ever deign the thought is outright foolish."

Viola smirked, happy that she was in control.

"Of course. But just in case, I have all of my soldiers outfitted with life detectors and cameras as well. I will share the video, of course. And also, of course, I will be sure to provide escort for the techpriest and his contingent when they arrive."

The Magos blinked his robotic eyes several times. He knew that all Inquisitors were cautious, but this one was incredibly so. The matter which was at stake however, warranted such suspicion and he knew that lesser members of the Mechanicus would wipe out entire planets if it meant preserving technology for themselves. For what he hoped to find, they would destroy entire sectors. Thankfully for them, he was not one such heretic, but that did not mean he wished to have his prize stolen away. No, if what they found was what his research has indicated it to be, then it would mean the plan could finally progress.

"Then it is decided. Please, refrain from such base things as sarcasm, Lady Inquisitor. We both know what stakes we hold in this…"

The screen cut from the transmission, and Viola immediately turned to Verdun.

"Verdun, go to the bay where the transports are being prepared. I have need of you to go and assist with the exploration of the ship."

Verdun turned to stare at her as he calculated several paths of reasoning.

"So, this is why you had the Transports stall, when they have been ready for the past two hours. What exactly is it that you require, Lady Inquisitor?"

Viola placed a hand to her chin.

"Simple. You will be in a position to report back to me on any finds, and I am sure you are eager to go on your own."

Verdun whistled as his gears turned. She adored antagonizing him.

"What my human desire is, true, however such is not an optimal course of action. But I am sure you know this. You simply wished to test me and see if I would take the most immediate chance to board the hulk. As much as it would please me, I am bound to do what is required of me. I will not seek to go on my own."

Viola smiled, and Reginald watched her with glee as he knew she had Verdun where she needed him. She had excellent control of her subjects, even the difficult ones. Viola looked back to the screen depicting the hulk before them.

"Well then, I suppose that brain of yours already figured out the other side of our deal. In the hour, we will be receiving a small contingent of their techpriests, and what I really need you for, Verdun, is to provide him company. Find out what you can, and if you see fit, forge an alliance with them. The more allies, the better."

Verdun ran several more computations of the data he had just processed through his mind. There was clearly something else she had planned, otherwise she would not have implied so heavily to seek alignment with the Dark Anvil. He was a member of the Mechanicus, so by default he was already acceptable within their ranks, but for what logical reason she would seek him to find alliance in such an indirect manner, when she would normally give explicit direction, confused his logical systems. This was also likely do to, in part, the majority of such computations being done to find out himself what the Dark Anvil sought. Based off the information and variables he gathered thus far. Either way, he desired to speak with another Tech-Priest of the Dark Anvil regardless, and perhaps give him some deserved communication with those able to keep up with him. From which he has been starved while aboard this ship.

"As your will declares."

Viola was content as she leaned back into her chair.

"Good."

The preparation for the coming mission were already in motion across the ship and in the hanger bay as the four transports provided for the mission were finally ready to be launched. Eli and Emile rested in the furthest back one, with Commander Richell and two of her most trusted guardsmen. An additional man who was not ready, nor likely to survive the excursion, was also brought on board as an 'extra hand'. As designated by himself, he was named Ervin. He was a wreck as he barely managed to hold onto the contents of his stomach, and sat at the edge of the transport doors. He clutched tightly onto the lasgun he was provided, though he had little experience firing such a weapon, not that the others did not know from what they saw of him. The other three transports filled with three ten man squads of Stormtroopers, which were gathered from the reserve guard aboard the ship's crew. Viola knew they weren't to be cheaply spent, but she had to dedicate such useful assets this time around. They each were the embodiment of nearly two to three decades of molding by the Schola which she acquired them from. So their lives were easily above the usual rank and file. But they were still under command, and hell, she knew she might not have a chance to command these Stormtroopers again for a while.

Eli and Emile could not help but feel sorry for the young Ervin as he laid against the transports cold metal. They both knew that he had likely done something to offend Viola, and thus this was his punishment. The possibility of him surviving was all but nothing, and though they would try to keep him alive, he would likely be killed within the first incident of combat. As for the other three aboard with them, Emile was both pleased and sadden by Commander Richells presence. She was one of Violas favored among the crew of her ship, and so Emile knew that her being here spoke to the gravity of this mission. The woman's connection to Viola something that echoed in his head as he looked at her. When asked by Viola, she quickly volunteered for this mission with not even a hint of objection, and even now seemed to maintain her cheeriness. Though Emile was assured by her confidence and willingness for such a task, he could not help but feel that twinge of sadness. Clearly, whatever was aboard the space hulk was important. Though as he contemplated it, his mind only could logically recall the last time he was sent to explore a space hulk. It was he and Eli who survived that mission, and only because they managed to be found by Viola after their chapter no doubt thought them lost within its horrid halls. He would be sure to ensure that such would not happen again on this endeavor.

Commander Richell was ecstatic at her chance to enter a space hulk, on behalf of her dear Inquisitor Viola. She knew the dangers of course, and the stories were all but terrifying. Still, she was overwhelmed by the confidence that Viola had in her and her men. The presence of the Noble Space marines of the Emperor all but strengthened her resolve, and thus she would not fail. Only the cowardly man who rested in the corner and strayed on the verge of sobbing sullied the moment. He should not have been allowed to taint this mission, and if he were one of her own soldiers, he would have been shot for his cowardice. Her two soldiers, first Lt. Jimmy and Lt. John Roe agreed with her, and they kept themselves sat apart from the man. He was soon to die, and they would not let him bring their mission to a halt.

The vox aboard the transport drill opened, and they heard the blaring sirens of the launch deck.

"All transports will begin the operation in 5… 4… 3… 2…1!"

The entirely metal transports suddenly shot forward as they ran along the deployment tracks. These transports unique in their design to be boarding vessels. They were cylindrical, with a massive drill on the front of the ship with no propellant of their own. They would be loaded with the troops to be deployed, and then fired out of a massive cannon within the hanger bay that would propel them towards their target. The drill would then activate, and cut through whatever the opposing vessel was made of until it reached a certain depth and allowed the drill to split apart and unveil the forward and side doors that would allow the troops inside to exit. Crude, and not completely accurate, but for the purpose of ship to ship combat or boarding hulks, they worked exceptionally well.

Within moments, the transports were launched headlong into the space before them as they raced towards the enormous hulk of metal and debris before them. The speed of the transports impeccably fast, as they reached their target within mere minutes. A loud thud, and a heavy crash as they hit the sides of the hulks outer layer, only to begin the drilling descent inside. This lasted all but mere moments as well, and then, they were inside. The transports sealed themselves so that they and the hulk were all but one. The drills popped off, and the doors opened on their own. From here on, there would likely be no reinforcements, and no help would come quickly enough if they needed it. Operation Divine Excavation had begun.


	8. Chapter 8

**The doors opened slowly**, first with a creak as they began to fall forward, and then a sudden crash as they tumbled to the ground. The exterior lights ignited as the immediate hallway before them was illuminated. Such light had likely not been seen aboard the many remnants of the hulk in decades. Yet the boarding team took no respite, save for the single sorry soul who was forced into this hell, gathered their gear and quickly ran outside. Emile and Eli held point, as they watched the opposite ends of the corridors carefully. Particularly the several air-ducts that tore their way through the ground alongside them, a perfect place for a creature of the hulk to ambush them. They would have to move quickly in case such creatures did exist on this hulk, which was almost undoubtedly so. Commander Richell and her two guardsmen supported the space marines in the center. She herself held a plasma pistol towards the crack in the wall ahead of her. Such was the necessary caution they had all to take. Their pitiful charge, Ervin on the ground of the transport as he vomited around himself. He was the first to die, guaranteed.

Richell looked back only once.

"Get up, voidsman, or I will be forced to end you myself."

Reluctantly, and against the part of his mind which seemed to convince himself that if he simply let her kill him it would all end peacefully, he stood. He held tightly onto his lasgun, straightened the helmet provided to him, and stepped out. Vomit still covered over his shirt.

This was given no praise or attention however, as the others continued their scan of the immediate area. Eli looked down the corridor to see several other lights flash on, the sound of creaks and clangs echoed from them. The lights were likely of the other transports; the Stormtrooper squads assigned to this mission. He opened up his vox channel to his brother within his helmet, so that only they could hear one another's voices.

"Emile, what is our course of action?"

Emile stared down into the dark void of twisted metal and debris before him, the small indicator on his helmets hud displayed the meeting point with the mechanicum forces in that direction. Not a welcome prospect given their current forces, but they would need to make due. If they had terminators, none of them would have even been required to be in such a position, a five man team adequate enough to provide support alone. But they consisted of two tactical marines, and a host of the more standard imperial troops. Even as a veteran, he knew that he would not last long against a horde of gene-stealers lest such creatures inhabited this hulk. Whatever horrors within would also be of great danger as well, and the fact he knew of only gene-stealers commonly being in ships frustrated him so. But he would not falter, and likely the mechanicum would have sent in more than adequate forces to deal with anything they encounter. That would be once they meet up granted, and now all they could do was survive. He was given acting command of all the forces present, and so he would be sure to use them efficiently. Thus his mind worked the logistics within as little time as he could make, and came up with their course of action.

"Eli, contact the Stormtroopers and have them meet us here. Be sure to inform them to maintain close ranks, and to have at least two on a constant watch behind them. Maintain as much light as possible, and stay away from any cracks, vents or doors. Once they have met us here, we will advance together as a single group. Understood?"

Eli shifted his bolter as he saw the shadows around him seemingly move. After several moments, he replied.

"I'll get it done. Until then, we wait?"

Emile held his bolter tightly.

"Yes."

Such waiting was always in these operations. Where speed and precision was often necessary for extractions, aboard a space hulk it was often not doable. Their size, threats within and the labyrinth like hallways ensured that. The creatures that prowled within far more adept to such an environment than any who would dare enter, and so, extreme caution had to be upheld. From the other side of a screen however, such would appear little more than boring dots on the projection of the hulks interior, created from the ultrasound sensors deployed on the transports. Each of the Stormtrooper squad outfitted with both a vox and an ultrasound scanner, which was relayed back to the ship. Such provided a 3dimensional map of the immediate area, if lacking in great detail. Still, it was enough for Viola to at least see the battlefield and her pieces on the board. Though secretly, she did desire for her companion Space Marines safety.

Viola tapped her fingers onto her chair as she stared at the projection. So far, the landing was met with no problems. She had worried that one of the transports would smash on impact or be lost in trajectory, but thankfully things looked well. Far too well. All operations had hiccups, and the sooner they happened, the better off one was. The quicker a plan of reaction could be enacted. She was not used to anything performing so smoothly, and expected it as nothing more than a warning of bad things to come. So she could not decide whether it was a blessing or a curse that the techpriest the Magos adamantly pleaded be a part of this operation, was late. Incredibly late. An apparent 'malfunction' within their craft that prevented a timely take off, according to the Magos. Such an event far too uncommon for the mechancum, and likely a ploy to express their dependence on the Dark Anvil for this operation.

On the right corner of the screen, she watched the vox transmission of the Magos as he shared the connection with her. He had contacted her earlier, and apologized for a delay in their 'ambassadors' arrival, which served to press at her nerves. Now he only watched, likely musing himself with this little game. The operation already began, and so he decided that until the techpriests arrival, they would need to oversee the progress of the boarding teams through her terminals. What pressed her nerves further was that the Magos refused to share the visual data of his own forces, but promised her that they would not move until hers met up with them. The visual feed to be connected through the ever coming techpriest and his escort.

At least she had Reginald behind her, his presence enough to maintain her calmness. He respected her leadership and authority over this vessel, and remained silent while she commanded her ship. But, in other ways, it felt good to know that someone who could appreciate such was besides her. Reginald was true to this, and he enjoyed seeing her enact her command as the nobles of his house all should strive to do. Efficiently, with thought out statements and consideration, the emotion behind them not completely hidden but subdued and expressive enough. So he maintained besides her, willing to help if she required it, but likely she wouldn't need it.

Verdun stood on the sidelines, kept within the command deck so as to maintain the projection display, a task he found woefully unbefitting of him. Regardless, he did his task anyway, but did take the opportunity to study the Magos figure. The connection shook as the projection terminal faltered, and Verdun had to sooth its spirit.

"Lady Inquisitor, the connection will not hold much longer on this broken terminal. The spirit is willing, but it is still in need of repairs. I ask that we move this to a more suitable location."

Viola shot him a single stare that she trained him well not to ignore, and thus Verdun remained silent. With him promptly dealt with, she turned her attention to the Magos.

"We have a lot to deal with currently, and I was promised that your techpriest would arrive soon Magos. I would like to have all the information possible when I make decisions for my forces, and I do not wish to tell you that I have the authority to demand command of yours. But I have chosen to remain nice, and allow you to lead them. I simply ask we continue this arrangement as a group effort, as we had previously decided upon."

The Magos blinked twice, his head tilted to the side. A pop and a whir later, he straightened his head with a readied response.

"I have enabled the emotion suppressants within my systems currently to more effectively lead this operation, and I ask that you do not disapprove of my decisions. I will no longer be provoked so easily by your rash statements, Inquisitor. But it is true, our effectiveness is easily cut short by 25% with this abysmally basic projection. My techpriest is imperative however in coordinating the Skiitari forces we have deployed, and thus without his presence you will have no access to any of their information. Once he has arrived, I will be sure to provide all you ask so that we can work cohesively. Your techpriest is correct however, it would be best to move your command center to a more effective room within your ship, so that my techpriest may install the necessary components to connect our two ships machine spirits, and thus allow for much improved communication between us."

Viola sighed. There was little use arguing with any of the Mechanicum when they dulled their humanity, and she knew full well such had to be accomplished as well.

"Very well, Magos. Then I will be sure to relocate to a better facility, and—"

She felt a sudden bout of sickness, one she couldn't prevent. She gripped her chair trying to hold it off.

Emperor, not now! This was the worst place for such a feeling!

Viola held onto her stomach as she felt a wave of nausea came over her. She tried her hardest to fight off the urge, but nature would take its course. With a single gasp of air, she coughed out the watery vomit onto the floor in front of her. Much to the immediate and striking pause given to all within the command deck, save for Reginald who in a moment of severe concern broke his stoic posture to stand beside her and lay hand gently upon her shoulder.

"Viola! Are you feeling ill?"

Viola shook her head, embarrassed and otherwise angry at her inability to hold off such an urge. The rest of the command deck with an eye split between their work and their leader. This was something none of them ever expected to see. Verdun on the other hand, finally came to a conclusion with this piece of information that revealed to him the intention of Violas plans. As to her biological scans, it was clear. He knew something was strange when she requested a medicae periodically every solar week these past three and a half-months. Few files were restricted to him aboard the ship, and the machine spirit liked him dearly, so he was able to follow such leads. Every time little was discovered, but then a month ago she went again, and then the medial report was deemed a 'Administratum file', which led the report to be coded in writing rather than aboard the ships logs, which was the only kind of file he could not access without alerting her. She likely knew he reviewed such data, and decided to block him from discovering why. Since then she stopped all visits with the medicae, and the medicae had become suddenly tight lipped about anything. With this most recent information, the section of his brain he ran to decipher her plan finally had the last variable it needed to discover what had occurred. Perhaps if he was not of the Omnisiah, he would have thought of such a biological possibility sooner. It almost made his want to smile again, with glee.

Verdun looked to the Magos on the screen and then shifted his gaze to Viola who stared at him, with her deathly gaze she always toted. She likely knew he would have figured it out. Oh well.

"No, the Inquisitor is not sick, at least with any virus or disease. What she has is what many commonly refer to as morning sickness. She is pregnant, with the high Lord of House Valors child."

Viola looked up and gave Verdun the same death stare from before, and though he keeled back by reflex, she knew he said enough. The rest of the crew all but returned to their positions before they found an unwanted bullet in their skulls, and so did their best to focus on their task at hand. Not that all of them reeled at this development. Such information so openly displayed was all but an open destruction of any plans she had devised, as she knew that the Magos knew of House Valors customs. They would have devoted extensive research to learn all they could of them. It was among the most important things she had learned as well; the nobles of House Valor would marry any whom they have created a child with, no exceptions, and the mother would thus lose any status she had previously if she were of any other force outside the Knightly House, and given to the parent part of House Valor. Such extended to Inquisitors as well, who would follow through on such promises as decreed by the Imperial doctrines signed with the High Inquisitors and House Valor in a long passed conflict. She intended to use this to ensure her place by Reginald's side as the High Lady of House Valor, and secure herself a comfortable future, but she intended on such after this operation. After she gathered more insurance from whatever the Dark Anvil discovered. But now, it would be used against her by the Magos, whom would very likely dispute any order or command she gave now that her title was all but voided. Who she wondered most about was Reginald, whom she intended on telling in a different manner-one befit the games of wit they had come to enjoy between one another. How he would react to being used, she did not know…

Reginald was the most surprised of all of them, but he knew where he had been bested in a way. It made him all the more excited, and the respect he held for Viola all but grew. He had intended to ask her to leave the Inquisitorial life and join him as his wife after this operation had been completed, both to ensure he would remain by her whom he felt was equal to him, and to maximize the potential gains they could have secured using her title as Inquisitor. But she planned much further than that, and she intended on pregnancy, which she succeeded in. In truth, such news made him happy. Joyful as a smile grown onto his face, something he rarely did so genuinely. This was love, he was sure, and if he had to be bested by someone, he was glad it was her.

He patted her back softly.

"Well then, it seems as by custom, Viola. Will you be my bride? It would be dishonorable to not wed the mother of the future heir of House Valor, correct? Truly, I love you, but I am sure you knew that. I promise, to give you a life worthy of you."

Viola looked up at him, with an almost surprised stare. She hadn't planned to have him learn this early… but… still he so quickly asked to recover her honor. He seemed so… the words escaped her, and all she could think was that she was happy with this outcome. She herself had thought about the ramifications of her current state, but… she didn't think of the human element; that she would be a mother. Her an Inquisitor, would give up her office for them, and truthfully, she was all the ready to make that trade. Truly she became soft, and unfit for such a demanding office as Inquisitor. Reginald redeemed the current situation she found herself in, and then the weight she carried all lifted away at once as she realized she no longer had to hold such hefty schemes. Well played, Reginal. Like she could refuse such an offer.

She straightened herself up on her chair, and took Reginald's hand.

"I shall accept your offer, Reginal. I hope to be a fitting wife."

Reginald helped her stand.

"Viola, you are the only woman whom I would have ever chosen. Equals, you and I. Never change."

Viola smirked. They truly were a pair meant for one another. At least she had this much, if she was to have lost her little game with the Magos. She took a deep breath as she turned to face the crew, no doubt dumbfounded by this, and the Magos on screen who only stared at the entire mess of events before him.

"Then it is settled. Though this is far earlier than I had intended, I must announce my retirement as an Inquisitor, and I present to you your new leader, my husband Lord Reginald of House Valor. I expect all of you to serve as dutifully as you would underneath me, and as for you Magos..."

Viola gave a determined stare at the Magos through the screen. Her plan didn't quite go the way she intended, but perhaps, this was for the best. She could set up her new rank and life far easier without the title of Inquisitor to ward off all others.

"I regretfully must pass on authority for this operation to Lord Reginald, as he is the new active head of this ship and all of its crew."

The Magos only blinked as he had come to do when such things overrode his very visual circuits. The amount of variables which had just shifted and changed were innumerable, and the possibility of this event was not remotely accounted for within his many mental scenarios. The various facial and body motions he detected on her all but led to the conclusion this was no ploy. What had occurred before him had in truth occurred, despite the absolute illogical course this had taken. Yet, humans proved to be utterly unpredictable, especially those not of the Mechanicum. Though, that he merely bluffed the Inquisitor-if she was to be considered as such now-that he activated his emotional suppressants was a blessing. He now had the chance to begin a working relationship with the Knightly House directly, rather than waiting for their return. He had to recalibrate his actions from here on, and thus also gave word on a silent vox to immediately send the techpriest and end the show of force he intended by withholding their arrival.

"Very well then, Lady Viola of House Valor. High Lord Reginal, it is of much appreciation that we will command this together—"

Reginald shook his head, a final trick up his sleeve.

"Afraid, Magos, that you will not so easily disregard my soon to be wedded wife. As the High Lady of House Valor, Viola is my equal. I will not take any dismissal of her as anything less with so much as an immediate execution. And as my first present to her, she will remain as the acting head of this ship, and all its forces. She has been with them the longest, and she has all the right to the command of her ship. I would never take such authority from her, and I expect you all to treat her with the respect that she deserves. Any infraction against her, is an insult against me and House Valor."

Viola could not help but smile. Despite his right to take it all away, he still warranted to let her continue on in command. Truly he was an honorable man, and she was glad that she met him. As for her plans, well, they were now still salvageable, and with Reginald besides her, they would fall into place yet. No longer in the guise of an Inquisitor who had lost their nerve, but a High Lady of House Valor, with all that it entailed.

"Thank you, my lord Reginald."

She smirked widely, happy at this turnaround, as she looked at both Verdun and the Magos, who were utterly shocked by yet another turn in events.

"Well then, as I am to maintain command, I hope Magos that we can come to terms. Shall we continue the operation?"

The Magos simply shut his eyes, nearly overloaded with the absolute bizarre nature of this turn of events. It almost made him want to laugh, if he still held the capabilities to do so.

"Very well. Contact me again once you have set up within the allocated space previously discussed. I just received word that my techpriest I promised is en-route to your ship, and will arrive within the hour."

Viola reveled in this unexpected victory as she did not expect this result. And Verdun cowered away, likely shocked that his little rebellious act came back to bite him. The Magos back under her heel.

"Good."

* * *

Luckily for the entire boarding team, none of this was seen. However, the silence with any command had worried Emile greatly as he and the rest of Violas forces made their way along the same corridor as before. Somehow, it had managed to remain entirely intact within the space hulk, but he would take no chances, and so slowly they progressed. It was not but a few hours since they first departed from the transports, and nothing of much concern had come from the darkness. All they could do was look ahead, stare on and keep the space around them as bright as a solar day. They had just nearly arrived at the destined meeting point with the Dark Anvils forces, and he was thankful for it. The Stormtroopers maintained their steady pace, checked every door, and were as precise as he expected of them, but any force the Mechanicus could provide would be far more superior to them for this mission. Commander Richell on the other hand, seemed keen on her duty, a smile held on her face despite the surroundings she found herself in. Emile could not help but feel she was a true warrior of the Emperor, ready to fight and die in the direst of circumstances. While she was devout granted, he knew the likely cause of her expression was a mix of happiness derived from her service to an old friend, and a façade to convince herself and her two guardsman to keep morale. The third man, Ervin, surprisingly quiet as he held onto his lasgun. Tight to his chest. Not a position ready to defend himself lest the worst came, but none the less a determined stare in his eyes as he looked ahead. Perhaps if he survived, he would become a worthwhile adept.

He stopped as they came to a large blast door ahead of them, its massive frame imposed along the end of the small corridor. Only the bottom center of the door actually visible, the rest hidden above the halls height, and into the space above it. This was a spot where two ships smashed together, as Space Hulks were created of many mashed ships, and the simple lack of any imperial sigil instantly led Emile to know what he needed of the ship beyond. This was the ship from the Dark Age that the Magos was after.

Emile held up his hand, and all those behind him stopped. With the vox in his helmet he contacted Eli first.

"Eli, you and the Stormtroopers secure this area behind us. I will try and contact the ship with the vox brought by commander Richells men."

Eli gave a silent nod, as he turned to the Stormtroopers.

"Make rank! Form a line to break off this corridor, and illuminate as much area as possible around us. Nothing gets through here."

The Stormtroopers were quick to act, and they all set to their positions. Commander Richell got the hint from the giant door ahead of her and turned to her first Lt. Jimmy.

"Get the vox ready."

He gave a single salute with two fingers, and unloaded his backpack onto the floor. He quickly started to assemble the vox array and as he did so, Richell turned to their tag along.

"And you. What did you do aboard the ship?"

Ervin almost didn't respond, stuck in his head as he repeated to himself that he was going to survive. Thankfully, he caught on to her voice in time. He couldn't come off as crazy here. No, then he would be dead.

"I-I was a spare communications officer…"

Richell gripped her fist tightly.

"What was that? Speak up."

Ervin swallowed hard and almost fumbled the weapon in his hands.

"Spare communications officer mam!"

Richell sighed. At the very least, she could see how he would come in use now. Thankfully for him, he didn't serve no purpose other than cannon fodder.

"Alright. Then get on the vox and set it up for our liege space marine."

Ervin nodded his head.

"O-Of course."

He shakily knelt beside Lt. Jimmy who was still in the process of setting up the vox. As if he didn't notice him, Ervin pushed away his hands and set the Vox up within a few moments. Something that Jimmy was about to hit him for, but stopped as he knew he would have taken several minutes to do. He wasn't used to Vox duty after all.

Ervin calmed down as he messed with the equipment, something familiar to him at last. Not this dark hell hole he found himself in. Despite his massively equipped and far better prepared company, he had to worry about everything. Everything he said, he did, and especially how he reacted to orders. He felt they would all kill him the moment he screwed up, and he didn't want to die. Not here, not now. He would live dammit. He had to. He had to…

Ervin prepared the Vox in no time at all, and grabbed the microphone. With a click of the button on its side, he spoke up.

"Br-Breach team to command. We seek to establish communication."

The voice he heard on the other end neigh gave him a heart attack, as Viola responded.

"This is Viola. I can see your current position. Now would you put on brother Emile for me."

Ervin shakily held out the mic towards the imposing giant of a space marine before him. Without an ounce of pity, Emile took it and turned towards the door.

"Viola, it seems we have come to an obstacle our current forces cannot overcome."

Viola looked at the projection before her, the same as before, to see he was right. Thankfully, on the other side was their allies, whatever their force consisted of.

"I see it Emile. I wouldn't recommend going through the long way to reach them. However, communication with the Dark Anvils forces will be established soon, and I am sure they will be more than enough to open the door for you. So, unfortunately you will have to wait until then."

Emile figured this would be the case. But, he was more interested in seeing if they would have responded.

"So then, might I ask what held communication until now?"

Viola remained silent as she had a brief flash of the previous events which held them. It wasn't in her best interests to explain everything to him yet.

"We had to move to a different location aboard the ship to establish a secure connection. From here on however, we will remain in constant contact. Once the comms are established, you will be able to contact me through your personal vox. Understood?"

Emile smiled beneath his helmet.

"Of course."

Viola did the same, as she stared at the simple projection before her. It had taken some time, but they managed to move all of the equipment they needed to a room in the officers section of the ship. It was right across from where she allowed that girl to stay, but other than that it was of dull notice. Granted, it was spacious for what was originally the mess hall for the officers, but it served its purpose finely. Now, if only that damned techpriest would show up. Verdun had already gone to meet him, and she received word that he would arrive in due course, but this communication problem was nothing if a mark against the Magos. Ah well, she would use it as leverage in later discussions have the need arrive.

Within the room, there was only limited personal with her. Reginald was there besides her as he did on the command deck. His presence all that made this façade of a command room not entirely agonizing. Several communications officers as they worked on a few screens Verdun had arranged, and several servitors Verdun 'relinquished' to aid in maintaining all of the machinery. Her usual retinue of ten Stormtroopers stood around the room, two at the door, one on each corner, and four which roamed along the center. The only unnecessary member of the entire group being the astropath, Ceres she recalled, who had not been sent back to the psykers chamber yet. He insisted he would prove useful, and though Viola had doubted as much, she did not wish to spare the time to make him leave. So there he stood, alone in the corner. Perhaps he could deliver a message to check up on the rest of the fleet back in the Schola sector.


	9. Chapter 9

**Ceres had his own reasons for being where he was.** He could have returned to the sanctum with the other astropaths. He could have ignored what had transpired before him, denied the Space Marines request. He could have, but he did not. No. He had something to do, and he had to find out who that girl was._ What_ she was. He would confront this girl, whom he knew was no mere human. He felt her presence, ever so subtly, as it probed all around the ship, despite her literal non-presence within the warp. The fact that he was able to find an excuse to be so close to her current dwelling was nothing if not a sign from the Emperor he had to proceed. He would at least be close enough for support, lest the worst came to worst.

He steeled himself as he held onto his rod, and swiftly made his way to the two guards at the door. Before they could say a word, he tapped into their minds and froze them for all but the few moments he needed to leave. Once outside the room, he headed straight for the young girls room. Erina Pendleton.

He raised his hand at the door, and knocked.

After the first one, the door opened and there she was as she stared at him.

"Well… I guess I should have expected you."

Ceres nodded.

"You have spread your probing without much regard after all. Witch."

Erina narrowed her eyes at him, an equal look of disdain towards him.

"Strong words from a filthy psyker."

Ceres closed his eyes for a moment.

"Then, may I come in?"

Erina stepped backwards as she walked to her bed. Ceres took that as a yes and continued inside. He looked at her, and she looked at him. She she sat down on the comfort of her blankets. They stared at one another, both unsure what to say, and who to speak first. This event was inevitable in both their minds, and all that had to come from this was who would come out afterwards.

Erina sighed.

"You are probably the most powerful psyker aboard the ship, right?"

Ceres gave a small nod.

"For an astropath, yes, I am."

Erina rolled her eyes.

"A little out of the cage aren't you? I thought the ship was on lock down."

Ceres clenched his staff tightly.

"Says the woman who opened the door with her mind."

Erina pouted as she turned towards the wall.

"You wouldn't understand the gift I have been given, Psyker."

Ceres didn't think he would want to know. Yet he did not think she would so easily have confessed to such a thing.

"Such gift, is naught but heresy."

Erina shook her head and pointed a hand at him.

"You are naught but heresy. Being a filthy psyker."

Ceres did his best to remain calm. She clearly wanted to aggravate him to action. He would not fall for it. He had tried to see into her mind, but he could not. No matter how hard he tried. Erina knew this of course, and it was part of the reason she expected him to come. She saw how much it pained him.

"Well, you are frustrated when you can't read others, aren't you?"

Ceres stepped back, careful with his minds extension. He did not know the full potential of this girl yet. What she was capable of.

"I just need to know. How are you not present? How can you not be present? You are no blank. You are not a psyker either. So tell me. Who gave you this gift?"

Erina looked at him with dire eyes, and stood from where she sat.

"I wouldn't speak ill of him if I were you. And yes, this _is_ a gift. A true gift from someone you would never hope to understand. And before you jump to such assumptions, no, it was not one of the foul powers. It was something else-someone else. I have been blessed with the removal of my heart from the warp, and I will strive to protect it."

Ceres stood tall. He knew that she was likely being recorded. He had betted in it.

"You know that this has all been recorded, correct?"

Erina smiled smugly.

"If I can open doors, I can shut off the cameras. It isn't hard to do."

Ceres grimaced as he looked at her. So she knew did she?

"I will inform the Inquisitor about this. About you. I am sure then, you will not be so haughty."

Erina shook her head.

"No. I don't think that High Lady Viola will. After all, I allowed you in here because you are dangerous. The one string that could ruin everything for me. My one obstacle to getting what I want."

Ceres eyes opened wide. She planned this? No… she wouldn't dare attempt to kill him here. It would only bring attention to her.

"What do you mean?"

Erina stepped towards him.

"Simple. I have my part to play, and if you stay around, you could manage to prove something. I can't have that."

Ceres gripped his staff tightly.

"What are you going to do? Use these powers of yours to destroy me?"

Erina shook her head.

"No."

She ripped her shirt with a hard pull, as she threw herself backward. All she had to do then, was scream. Scream to the top of her lungs.

"Help me! Please! Someone!"

Ceres knew then he was played, but far too late in the game.

A very short distance away, Verdun was on his way back to the new command center for the operation with the Techpriest of the Dark Anvil in tow. Call sign 0101020101 was his name, though they called him 02 for short. Much more modified than even he was, 02 stood about a foot higher than himself, and moved around on a series of mechanical legs that pushed his massive frame forward. It was odd then that his face was virtually untouched, save for the quarter that covered his right eye, a full set of auspex jutted from flat metal that peered all around him. His human side incredibly muscular, and his brown hair still intact. The left side of his torso also untouched, his left arm equally as clean from machine, contrasted with his hulking right which was proportionally irregular in size.

He was certainly an eccentric techpriest if Verdun had ever saw one. Though his retinue was equally as strange. He had expected skiitari to have accompanied him, but instead it was four guardsman it seemed, outfitted with mechanicum weaponry. They all had their legs replaced with the metal ones of the Skiitari, and they each wore the same robes, but that was where the similarities ended. They had no other enhancements to their bodies, and the masks they wore were similar to those of the Skiitari as well, but were removable and not nearly as multifaceted. Even their weaponry was more akin to the guard; lasguns, though seemingly retrofitted in design that made them similar to the galvanic rifles of the Skitarii. They gave the appearance of skiitari, but they themselves were not. Apparently, they were a guard provided by the Faceless Legion, both as a show of goodwill and a means to tighten the already strong relationship between the Dark Anvil and the Faceless Legion. The last member of the retinue a tall man who wore a dark grey guardsman's uniform, his right arm long since replaced with a power fist. He donned medals all along the left side of his jacket, and over his face was a mask that from Verduns analysis encased his whole head, though was also frustratingly removable. Two lenses equally apart from one another that allowed him to see outside, with both a vox and a powerful air filter installed inside. A blue hat with the insignia of the eagle adorned on its center, over the top of the helmet. This was a commander among the Faceless Legion, whom was in charge of the detachment which was sent to aid in this mission. Not that he provided his name. Likely, Viola would not be happy that the Magos withheld such information, though 02 refused to elaborate on why it was.

Together they made their way along the hallway, in silence. None had spoken other than the basic trivialities' upon first meeting. Likely, 02 was analyzing him through observation just as he did to him. It would make communication all the easier once they arrived and accomplished their tasks. Then he could begin probing his distant cousin of the Dark Anvil. An hour long walk it was, but they managed to make it to the officers section of the ship, not but a corner away from the false command center. That was when they heard the girl scream.

"Help me! Please! Someone!"

02 raised an arm, and without hesitation the forward guard of his retinue ran forward. His name was Michael, Michael Ver Reich. He hadn't been a legionnaire of the Faceless legion for long, but he took pride in what he did as guard to a tech priest. Though the tech priests rarely talked to him, or the others. He was ashamed when he had his legs blown off in an accident during a training exercise, so he was unable to join the other legionnaires in deployment, and that was why he was transferred to the guard of the Dark Anvil. He had always hoped to protect people, protect humanity from the horrors of the universe, but he rarely had a chance to fight anything as guard. It was never for glory, or for fame, though his family cared much more about such things, but he desired to protect those who couldn't protect themselves. Help others in their time of need, and be as good a legionnaire as he could possibly be in this dreary universe. So when he heard the girl scream, he could not help himself but to charge forward.

As he made it into the room, he found a tall man, bald and holding onto a weird staff, standing over a young woman. She was close to Michaels age. Her shirt ripped open, and a scared look in her eyes that screamed for help. She held a hand over her barren chest as she looked up at the monster in front of her. He wouldn't let this stand. So with a single rush he knocked the man onto the ground. He pushed away the staff he held and forcibly pulled his arms onto his back. With enough force, he managed to crack the bones in one of the man's arms, as he cried out in agony. It wasn't long before the others arrived to this scene.

"Get me restraints."

His fellow guard obliged him, and tossed him a small set of metal bindings. With them, he cuffed the man's arms together, though he pleaded to be let go.

"You don't understand! Let me go!"

Ha! Such was the rambling of a filthy monster. Michael stood up and with a hefty kick, knocked the man across the floor into the wall. Then he turned his attention to the girl who looked up at him. He knelt down beside her.

"I apologize for my lateness. Did he hurt you?"

The woman shook her head.

"Thank you for saving me… he… he said he was going to…"

Tears built up behind her eyes as she looked away and held her hands tightly over her chest. How could anyone try to harm someone in such a way?

He pulled a blanket from the bed as he gave it to her.

"Here. Don't worry. I'll stand by you. I promise, everything will be ok."

She looked up at him, a small smile on her face as several tears ran down her cheek.

"Thank you."

She wrapped herself in the blanket so as to cover up the part that was wrongfully exposed. He turned back to see as a new figure come into the room, as she brushed past one of his fellow guards. A fancifully dressed woman who wore a black uniform. A hat similar to the commanders over her hair, save this one had an I instead of the eagle.

"What's going on here?"

Michael was about to say something, but Viola assumed the situation from what she saw. Something that irritated her beyond her current annoyance with the Dark Anvils games.

"I thought I had stamped out such behavior from my ship. I will not let this stand, astropath. I should shoot you myself! And to do this under the guise of assisting in this important operation. You sicken me."

The man tried to speak, but Michael shoved his head onto the floor.

Viola took a deep breath.

"Eject him from the ship. Let him drift in space till he dies or goes insane. I don't have the time to deal with this filth."

As she turned towards 02, she gave a single nod.

"It took you long enough to arrive. You and Verdun begin setting up whatever equipment you need. And…"

She then looked at the other new face, whom she presumed was a commander of sorts.

"Well then. It seems we have another guest. Welcome. I assure you, that this is not a common occurrence aboard my vessel."

The commander gave a nod.

"It is unfortunate, the psyker must have gone mad from his dismissal. Soldiers, do as the Inquisitor says. Take him out to the nearest ejection bay and chuck him outside. Don't give him a moments rest to think, otherwise he might use his foul powers against you. If he resists put an end to him immediately, but do try to save him for his torment."

The other guards rushed into the room, picked him off of the floor and rushed him outside. Michael was about to follow him, but the commander held out his power fist.

"You stay with the girl, Michael. Give her comfort."

Michael stood in attention.

"Yes sir."

With that, Viola the techpriests, and the commander all went into the command room. His fellow guards dragged away the filth, and Michael remained with the poor girl.

He turned to her, and let out his hand.

"Here, let me help you up."

She smiled, wiped the tears away, and took his hand.

"Thank you… truly."

As she stood up, she wobbled forward, and Michael was quick to catch her. She pressed onto him, happy to play the loved victim for once. Still, this Michael was what she would call a good person. From the brief flash of his memories she saw, he was good. It also made her feel… warm inside, when he appeared the way he did. Sure, it was into a set up situation, but he didn't know that. He genuinely cared, and she was all the happy for it.

"Please… don't leave me."

Michael was uncertain what to do, but he knew he wanted to help her calm down. After all, nobody should have to go through such a terrible event. Such was the worst of crimes punishable by death by torture by the Faceless Legion, given their emphasis on the lives of their forces. But he was still a soldier, and knew little how to react. Gently with his hand, he patted her back, the only thing he could think to do.

"I promise."

* * *

Such event was the start of something new, a step forward in a plan long set in motion, and something that would have greatly perturbed Emile had he known what transpired. It was he who had asked the psyker Ceres to investigate the girl further, a doubt still within his mind that refused to let go. But where he was, he would not know. All he knew in the current moment was what was immediately in front of him, and that was the massive door that remained in their way.

He took several short breathes between each glimpse along the hallway. Thus far, no fowl creature had come to assault their position. Let alone a sound that permeated along the ancient halls. The only thing that seemed to move was the one who fielded the Vox; Ervin, if he recalled correctly. His nervous chatter was a minor distraction, but in the utter silence of the hulk, it was more than noticeable. Not that he could completely blame him for his fear, a man who likely rarely saw the outside of the ship, thrust into this hell. No matter, as things had gone smoothly thus far, Emile wanted to remain as vigilant as possible. Not even a moment given to the thought that perhaps the rest of the mission would proceed so easily.

It was then that the door behind him started to vibrate violently. He turned around, bolter in hand as did the rest of the rear guard of their defensive formation. A large red streak burned across the middle of the enormous doors, as something clearly cut its way through. Fortunately, communications came to explain before any of the others jumped to conclusions. Violas voice both inquisitive and annoyed.

"Emile, have the Mechanicus begun opening the door?"

Emile watched as the streak began a downward arc.

"Yes. We should meet with the mechanics forces very shortly."

"Good. When you do, you and Eli must find the Dominus in charge of the ground forces. From there we should be able to more accurately coordinate ourselves. The others are to remain on good basis with the rest of the Mechanicus troops and not cause any disruptions."

Emile found himself in contemplation of the last part of her sentence. The mechanics troops, the Skiitari as far as he had interacted with, were more machine than human. They often functioned emotionally little more than servitors, and he had yet to meet any whom had a semblance of their humanity left. He also doubted any of the forces they currently had would interact, let alone make trouble, with the Skiitari. Particularly since the Stormtroopers were hardly any more cognitive themselves.

"Is there something different about this Mechanicus force?"

Viola sighed.

"There's a lot, Emile. But, this can be used to our advantage. They have several detachments of guard from the Faceless Legion, modified and outfitted with Mechanicus equipment."

The door was nearly cut through in its entirety as the red streak almost hit the ground. Though Emile was more focused on the peculiarity of their allies. They truly were very different than the majority of the machine cult if they were so tightly linked with the Faceless Legion.

"I have never seen the mechanicus so willingly share technology, especially with the guard. Even an Inquisitor has an incredibly difficult time acquiring the most base of assets."

Viola replied quickly, but sternly.

"It is not in our place to judge. After all, they are our current allies and likely our future ones as well. I should also inform you that they do also have several detachments of the more usual skiitari as well. Though given their unusual nature, perhaps they aren't what you would expect either."

Emile took a deep breath. She was right, he was not to judge others of the Imperium unless they were immediate and major threats. It did not matter in what way they went about serving the Imperium, as long as they did so dutifully. To judge those whom do so, simply because of traditional or cultural differences, was beyond foolish. Such often led to tragedy, rebellion and betrayal down the line. Such a severe waste of valuable resources.

The red streak came to a stop and Emile knew that the path was finally about to be opened for them. He had to meet those on the other side as diplomatically as possible, and thus his current conversation had to come to a close.

"It seems they have finished. I promise you, I will make sure all is well and coordinate ourselves accordingly. The others will be sure to remain in check. Any last orders until we can reconvene?"

Viola was silent for a moment before she came up with a response.

"No. Thank you, Emile."

Emile could not help as a smile came onto his face. Such were words rarely afforded to any in her service.

"Of course, lady Viola."

The vox link cut off, and he looked on ahead as the carved section of door fell down. After the dust and ruble cleared, several Skiitari dressed in white robes with black trims, trotted over it. A single, tall figure in the center of them who was the only one not to have a mask. His body almost entirely flesh save for his arms and legs, replaced with mechanical counterparts. A bundle of servo arms arched along his back from where they protruded from his spine. His right eye now a green optic which spun in and out to clarify the area around him. He also had hair, thick brown hair which was combed upwards and clearly well cared for. A smirk on the man's face as he rolled his mechanical shoulders, an action clearly pointless for one so heavily modified. He held out his robotic hand, in a single elegant bow towards Emile.

"Ah, finally we meet. I am Vargos, the Techpriest Dominus in charge of this mission. Shall we?"

Emile paused only for a moment to size up this dominus. He was an unusual sight indeed. Most techpriests far more machine than man, who barely had human features. This Vargo was quite different in that regard. Perhaps that is why he was a dominus and not anything higher.

"It is good to finally meet you."

Argos pulled back his hand.

"And the same could be said of you. Now, if you would Space Marine, we have an operation to continue."

Emile waved his hand forward as the Stormtroopers marched ahead. Commander Richell and her team not far behind. Ervin given control of all of the vox equipment as he was packed with it. A weight he struggled to carry, but one he did none the less without a complaint. Perhaps there was hope for him yet.

Vargo and his retinue stepped to the side as they allowed their newcomer allies inside the massive chamber. They were set up in the largest one that was located aboard the hulk, and the mechanicus forces managed to breach here through the use of unique boarding craft developed by the Magos himself. Though this they kept secret, and stored the machines far from the view of the Inquisitorial forces. Or at least, as Vargo mused to himself, the _former_ Iquisitorial forces.

Emile and Eli were amazed at the scale of the operation before them. An entire row of walkers, Onnigar Dunecrawlers clambered ahead of them as they surrounded a massive circular vault like door. There were at least a dozen Skorpius Duneriders fully loaded with Skiitari, and a detachment Skorpius disintegrators floated in place as they waited in several lines behind the Dunecrawlers. Large box like forms of metal and steel, painted black to blend in with the darkness of the ship. A servitor armed with two heavy stabbers attached on their rear ends, as it stared emotionlessly waiting for its call to action. Nearly a hundred or so Skiitari and nearly double that of what Emile surmised was the guard detachment that supported them, all around the room in various detachments as they set about a makeshift base of operations. Several large tents, and even rooms of the hulk itself seemingly active once more as they prepared for whatever was behind that door; that vault.

The single most impressive sight above all in the room, massive in scale before them., It was a large and circular door, decorated by thousands of carvings along its side, with hundreds of mechanisms and locks along its length. A single large windowed section in the center, though nothing could be seen behind its glass. The ancient moniker of a long dead language written just above the circular door itself as it arched along the metals frame. Whatever it was, Emile knew instantly that this was no ordinary operation. There was far too many resources poured into this for a standard sweep of the ancient hulk. Even if it contained a ship from the Dark Age of humanity. What they had hoped to gain here was likely much more. Something that Emile settled on immediately discovering for himself.

He contacted Viola through his vox.

"Viola. Explain what this is truly about."

Viola stayed silent for nearly a minute, something she rarely did when she talked with Emile, before she replied.

"I am sure you can guess. What else would drive the Mechanicum to undergo such a large scale undercover operation as this?"

Emile looked at Argo who looked back at him. The same grin on his face as before. He did guess and he wasn't sure if he liked the answer.

"An STC."

Viola let out a sigh.

"Yes. One I hope to use as leverage. A way out, Emile, of this inquisitorial life."

Emile had to take a moment to contemplate. He had known Viola was up to something, but he didn't expect that answer. On one hand, it seemed to please him. No, it alerted that part of the brain that was relief of worry, that part of the brain that was connected still to his heart. He wanted her to leave the capricious life of an Inquisitor behind. But a sense of his duty made such a feeling conflicted. He knew she must have known this as well.

"Are you sure of this course of action, Viola?"

With the same determination she always gave when her mind was made up, she replied.

"Yes."

Emile found himself in a smile again, something so rare that he found himself do. A semblance that he was still at heart human. Had he been separated from his brothers so long? He did not know, but he was here now, and he had to make his decision. He would see this operation through to its end, for Viola.

"I will stand by your decision, Viola. I hope this serves you well."

"Thank you. Emile."

At that he cut the vox channel. An odd feeling about him that warmed his cold heart. One he had to shake off as soon as possible if he were to complete this mission successfully.

The techpriest, Argo, stepped up to him. Closer than most would dare to do so willingly.

"Well then. Do you wish to talk about the specifics? Or shall we stare at one another so very awkwardly?"

Emile let out a deep breath of air that resulted in a low grumble from his helmet.

"Very well, Dominus. Let us coordinate this operation. And trust me. It is best you leave nothing hidden."

Argo rolled his neck to the side, a mechanical whirl that clicked around him, as he peered unfazed into the space marine's visor.

"Of course."


	10. Chapter 10

**Not all such conversations were to be quite as serious **as that held between tecpriest Argo and Emile. Only but a few yards away, stood Commander Richell and her team. Including the weak one, Ervin. Still he played his part well enough thus far, without losing his sanity. Richell decided that perhaps he could be salvaged from his cowardice.

Ervin breathed heavily as he heaved the bag packed with the vox equipment and laid it onto the ground with a thud. Richell's two lieutenants pressed to not laugh at the sight.

Richell sighed. If Ervin survived all of this he might even be guard material. Perhaps.

She looked over towards the massive formation of troops within the room. She felt comfort in knowing they had such allies in this endeavor. But she could not help her gaze from its wander towards the door at the far end of the room. The one that the Mechanicus walkers crowded, their weapons outstretched outwards from it. That was the place they were to enter. But what _was_ it? She rarely got the details of her assignments, and given her place as a member of an Inquisitors retinue, she knew better not to. No old ties to Viola would save her from knowing too much. This time though, something was different about this sight. It was… almost as if it called out to everyone in the room, imposed its presence as something holy, and beyond their understanding. She was not but a soldier…

Ervin sat beside his bag as he pulled on his las rifle. He looked over at Richell curiously as he wondered what she so intently stared at. He didn't dare ask however, and only mumbled to himself.

"At least we have a break…"

Richell shook away her curiosity, and focused now on her men. She had a mission to complete, and that was that.

"Rest for now. Once the operation starts, I expect all of you to push on even if you are on your dying breaths. Understood?"

Her lieutenants both stood in attention and saluted her. Ervin only found himself in an uncomfortable pause as Richell peered at him. With a kick from one of the lieutenants, he stood up and copied them. He gave her an adequate salute.

"Y-Yes mam…"

Richell smiled.

"Very well then. Shall we mingle with our new friends?"

Her lieutenants looked to one another with a grin on their faces.

"Yes mam."

Ervin on the other hand stayed quiet, though this time Richell did not reprimand him. She didn't want him to go anywhere.

"Good. Go see what you can find out. And don't go causing any trouble."

Lt. Jimmy only walked off with a salute, while Lt. John waved his hand in her direction.

"I'll keep an eye on Jimmy. You can trust us commander."

Richell grinned, faith in her men. They knew the penalties for being a problem.

"I better hope so. We got special eyes on us this time boys."

Lt. John only nodded as he wandered off after his compatriot. Only Ervin and Richell left besides their gear. What was she to do with him? That is what she had to find out. But to do that, she would have to learn more about this voidsman. From his behavior, she didn't expect much, but if she knew anything from commanding the guard, she learned to know her soldiers. So she could send them off to die with the most impact. The luckiest would survive to continue their service.

"Well then, voidsman. Might you tell me about yourself?"

Ervin looked up at her.

"R-Right mam…"

She waited for him to continue, but he only stared at her. He was just as daft as ever it seemed.

"Don't make me lose any respect I may give to you. Answer."

He nodded as he nearly fumbled the las gun in his hand.

"I was a… Schola reject. Passed over for the selection by my older brother. Left alone on the station I was born. I managed to train myself well enough to work with the voxes. Then I was recruited for the Inquisitors ship… that's all really."

A Schola reject? Why did those words remind Richell so much about her own past? For the first time in years, she showed a moment of pause in front of a lower rank. Ervin was smart enough to notice it, and even smarter not to say a word about it. Richell knew this of course, but it bothered her more how easily she was frozen by such a simple phrase.

"What station?"

Ervin swallowed as he tried to actively recall the name. It had been nearly four, maybe five, terran years since he had even thought of that dreadful place. He left it willingly and with nothing but contention in his heart. To live amongst the alleys and streets, constantly berated by the thugs that overran its lower corridors. He used to have contention, he used to…

Richell cleared her throat loud enough for him to hear.

"Ervin. Test my patience again, I promise you."

His eyes blinked as he found himself back in reality.

"H-Huh, I…"

He shook his head as he straightened out.

"I'm sorry. My mind wandered off. The name of the station was… I…"

Richell sighed.

"What?"

Ervin looked her in the eyes as he told her his answer. He had no intention of remembering that place any further than he already had. It was a dead memory to him.

"I don't remember. I forgot it."

Richell raised an eye as she looked at him. So he could have balls if he wanted to.

"Good then. You keep up that fire in your eyes and you will survive this. Maybe."

Ervin hardly expected such a reply. But, he was most surprised by her sentiment that perhaps, he wouldn't die. Something that he was still amazed he wasn't. Up till now, he had only himself to convince him that he would live. To hear another person say those words were nice.

"T-Thank you, commander."

Richell smirked as she sat down on one of the many barrels across from him.

"Call me Richell. You aren't one of my squad. You want to call me commander, you better prove to me that you are worth commanding. Got it?"

Ervin nodded.

"R-Right."

Richell looked over towards the forces of skiirtari and walkers again. Her interest swayed by a sudden and loud crack, one of the legs on a Dunecrawler busted open. Ervin noticed her interest, and his mouth got the better of his mind to stay silent.

"The Onegar Dunecrawlers aren't made for this sort of environment. It's a lot different in space than on a planet."

Richell looked over at him. He knew what they were called did he?

"Oh, and how would you know this, voidsman?"

Ervin cringed at that title. Voidsman. Though, the way she had said it did not seem as harsh as it had before. So he would take his victories where he got them. But, he could at least try and tell her his name.

"My name is Ervin. No last name, and no surname to pretty it with. And before I joined the ship, I had worked with the mechanicus on a previous mission. So I learned a lot from voxing in information for them."

Richell smiled.

"Well then, _Ervin_, perhaps you'll be more useful after all. And I thought that Lady Viola only wanted you dead when she assigned you with us."

Ervin couldn't tell if that last part was serious or not. Knowing the Inquitor he didn't doubt it. But, either way, he was more relieved than before.

"I'll do my best."

Richell crossed her legs and stretched her arms, strained from holding her plasma pistol.

"That's the spirit. There isn't any trying in my outfit. You either get it done or you get killed trying. Got it?"

Ervin nodded.

"Got it."

Richell found it interesting that he had worked with the mechanicus before. While she had meant what she told him about Viola intending on his death, she also knew that Viola wouldn't have sent him along _just_ to die given the current situation. This was an important enough mission that Emile and Eli were sent here. Still, to have worked with the mechanicus before Ervin was recruited into Violas service could only mean so many things. He was likely saved from a purge of some sort. Especially since the Mechanicus rarely liked to acknowledge they needed help from time to time from regular meatbags.

She waved a hand his direction as she rested her elbow on her knee. Her chin rested on-top of her palm as she leaned toward him.

"So then, how exactly did you end up as a voidsman aboard the ship?"

Ervin frowned, but he knew best not to stall his answer.

"There was a small mechanicus ship that had crashed into our station, and as one of the vox casters I had to provide communications for them between the stations security and them. It went on like that for at least a year, I think it was. Then when they did whatever they had to do they had to clean up loose ends. I just happened to be lucky enough to be recognized as above average to one of the Lady Inquisitors officers. While the other vox casters were hauled off to a quiet room, I was pulled away and taken aboard the ship where I apprenticed under him. Lucky for me too. Without him, I might never have had the chance to keep looking for my…"

Ervin stopped as he realized his tongue had run away from him again. Dammit! Why did he let that slip? Richell on the other hand felt almost, no, she _did_ feel as if she understood. She miraculously had so much in common with him. As much as they clearly turned out different from one another. Not that she would ever admit to it. Before she was picked up by Viola, she and her men were sent to die. To waste their lives against the enemy for no reason other than to lower the mouths the division needed to feed. Her regiment just happened to draw the short stick, and off they went sure as 'ell to not come back again. But, at the last moment she and her men were recognized by Viola. Her search for a long lost friend… a family member, was over. For a sister. A secret she even kept away from the Emperors own angel of death, Emile, when he asked her about her relation to Viola. Not that it mattered to anyone but her.

Her own home world too was a horrific place. The daughter of a prostitute. Thrown out from home and abandoned with her little sister to take care of. Certainly they were the daughters of an Imperial guard officer, but they never even knew his name. They only carried around the badge that labeled him such, the payment he gave to their mother. As they grew older Viola began to show promise, as they grew into young gangers. Viola killed an entire cult in the darkness of their hive world, and the Inquisitor who watched from the shadows saw much worth in her. All she needed was an excuse to whisk her away to their 'feckin hell of a school, and when she discovered that she had the lineage of an officer, she took her away. Richell tried to stop it, but she was beaten and thrown to the side like garbage. When she tried to plead her worth to join her sister, she was spat on and called worthless. By some stroke of luck, she found herself picked up by the guardsmen stationed on her world, and she strove to join them and rise to the highest rank she could. She did, and she became a commander, respected by all of her soldiers and nothing but feared by her enemies.

Only to end up as some weakling governors sacrificial lambs to satiate the rest of her divisions resource problems. Yet, fate and the Emperor had a way, and she found herself in the employ of her sister. Not that she remembered her, or wouldn't hesitate to kill her if it came to it, but at least, they were together once again.

She held back the memories as they continued to flood into her mind as she looked at Ervin who remained silent through her pause.

"Who are you looking for?"

Ervin knew he had been found out. He could have tried to deny it, say he didn't know what she talked about, but he wouldn't. It was foolish anyway.

"My brother."

Richell only laughed at his response, not intentionally, but she did. That sealed the tragedy they both shared was nothing more than common at best! Ha! How the cruel world, this wretched universe, would laugh. Ervin at first saw it as an insult to himself, but his mind changed as Richell smiled at him, warmly and with a hint of compassion he would never have expected.

"You know Ervin, you and I are not very different after all. Would you sit here with me, and talk? About anything would be fine."

Ervin nodded, relieved and perhaps even comforted by her words. He didn't see her as an imposing figure in that moment, and saw her as a person. Relaxed for the first time in this entire mad venture he found himself in. Richell too, relaxed as she and Ervin began to talk about their lives, their service to their Inquisitor, and soon about whatever came to their minds. Both saw something of themselves in the other, and both for the first time in years, simply enjoyed another person's company. Not that they assumed the other would live to see to the end of it.

Just across the room, two others shared a different conversation. One that was entirely serious with hints of scorn. Emile had nearly had it with the techpriest in front of him. He was mad. They would simply go through the vault upon its opening, and immediately secure the inside of the ship. How it would open he refused to say. There was no mention of rituals, or of the sacred practices he had expected would be all but demanded. No, it was as precise and as cold as he would have been. Except there also seemed to be some compassion behind it that held the skiitari and other troops with under in high regard. Likely, he assumed they were too high quality of a resource to waste. He would have expected much more precaution from a priest of the mechanicus on the side of the machines themselves. Especially from a dark age vessel.

Then again, everything about this Argo had made it clear that anywhere else and he would have been considered a heretic. This group of mechanicus were no doubt outliers to the main cult, and a very cautious one at that. Regardless, Emile had no choice but to accept the techpriest's plan. A plan that had him and those brought from Violas ship to the forefront as body shields. It did not matter in the end how he felt, as long as the mission was a success. And he had the suspicion that perhaps all of the current assets the Mechanicus had here were not the only ones. Things he would rather keep confined to the back when he and his detachment were gone. It was the way of the Mechanicus after all…

Emile grunted from underneath his helmet as he peered down at Vargo, huddled comfortably behind a metal table. His legs crossed over one another as he carelessly teetered his chair on its edge. A glass of some liquid in his hands as the techpriest gleefully swished it around in his hand.

"You seem displeased, Space Marine. Did I not make the mechanizations of my plan clear?"

Emile set his hand onto the table, with enough force that the metal began to bend underneath his very grip.

"Do not chastise me, techpriest. You and I both understand the reality of your plan."

Argo dumped the liquid onto the floor.

"Oh? I ran several dozen simulations within my core processing unit. This has the highest chance of survival and of success."

Emily removed his hand.

"For your forces, correct?"

Argo grinned.

"Oh, you do catch on quick. Wouldn't you do the same, other way around? I never have been so fond of you illustrious Angels of Death. Such blunt instruments as you are best used in grander wars and then sealed away…"

Emile knew that this Argo wished to anguish him with such remarks, but he knew better than to let himself be bothered by the petty taunts of a foolish priest. Though he would have to ensure that such interactions were limited with his much more impulsive brother Eli. Regardless, he would have to prove to this Argo the reality of his situation. And to do so, he only needed to say a few words.

"Vargo, might I inquire where _you_ will be during the operation?"

Vargos face slid into a grimace.

"Ah, there you go. Do you suggest I be with you and your team up front?"

Emile only started to walk away.

"Be certain that you do, lest I make a report to higher powers than you."

Argo smashed the glass in his hand as the pieces fell to the floor.

"Of course. As you wish, noble space marine. We leave within the hour-"

A loud crash and several booms rocked the entire room. A loud creak that only grew in intensity came from the end of the room where the vault began to putter open. It was not pried, nor was it interfaced with, and none of its systems had seemed to be online. No, they opened on their own, as if by the will of something else. Someone else.

Argo stood immediately from his seat as he began to issue orders to everyone around him. In such a quick and coded flow of words that only those who were trained to understand would. Emile was cautious as he approached his brother Eli. Stood in front of all the forces that they had arrived with, Richells team up front with all the Stormtroopers ranked behind.

Eli held up his bolter cautiously, uneasy as it was being within a hulk again.

"Emile, what's going on? Did they open the door?"

Emile held his hand firmly around the guard of his bolter, and another around the grip by its trigger. This was not planned, and that was more than apparent by the immediate call to arms that all of the surrounding forces found themselves in. All of the Dunestriders began to move as their four legs pushed the main frame off of the ground. The cannon that was mounted on its side twitching as if just awakened, and the Skiitari soldier who was in the port above checked the heavy stubber mounted before him. The floating Skorpius Dunerider transports began to move in a flurry and zoomed along a set path towards the vault door.

Emile turned to face it as well and answered his brother's question. Though he was certain he already knew it as well.

"No, Eli, I'm afraid not. Be prepared, all of you! We know not what is behind that door. Do not underestimate whatever it is we may come across."

He heard his reply in unison.

"Yes my liege!"

The circular door before them creaked ever so slightly open. A large streak down its center that began to expand as dust and broken debris fell from the ceiling from the sheer magnitude. The room had stopped its terrible tremble, and now all only gazed at the strange majesty that was this relic before them. But there was not darkness from the other side, no, it was light. By the time the door had opened up to half its height, all could clearly see within. Nothing but a perfectly preserved hallway stood before them, grand in nature. It's walls filled with strange remembrances of a bygone era, much like what a planetary governor's citadel would resemble. Massive trees were grown, in incredibly good health, in increments along the center. Several large illustrations of people long past lined along the walls, as if preserved eternally. Benches, made out of some metal material lined along the edges of the grand hall, and the floor was made of a glorious white tile that shined in the light. This truly was an ancient sight to behold, for no ship any among those present, had ever seen before. That a ship from the Dark Age would be found in such preservation was nigh unthinkable. No ship in the Imperium would waste such resources into presentation like this, aboard any vessel, not when they could be maximized for war. Gutted of any semblance of comfort and replaced with the brutal efficiency of dark halls and compacted space. Not even those chambers reserved for those of high command would have such a pristine living space, and this was all that was before them. Not a sound to be heard anywhere among them as all did nothing but stare. Even the two SpaceMarines, Eli and Emile, were shocked in awe at what they saw. How had this place come to be so well preserved? So well cared for? In such a place as this hulk, this writhing mass of metal, wire and death.

None more wanted to understand than those of the Mechanicus gathered around. Oh, it was as if seeing the great Omnisiah it-self reflected in but this simple view. The techpriest Argo had nearly felt a surge of tears, such things that should have been long ago removed, as he stared into its brilliance. No, not anyone could simply treat this holy halls before them. No one! He had intended upon sending in his forces as soon as it opened, but he never would have assumed such glory behind. It truly was a vault, a fountain of endless knowledge long lost before them, and he would not have it desecrated. No!

He made his way towards the front of his forces, of all those present and rested at the very foothold of the barrier between the hulk and the ship. His human heart beat, and beat and beat in its excitement as he neared it so!

"This… this is…"

He nearly fell to his knees in mere respect, but his servo arms managed to keep him held high. He had to be the extension of his Magos command, and he knew his mission well. But he doubted that even the Magos himself would have foreseen this. No, in truth, only the Magos and those he deemed worthy would be allowed to enter. And only them. Not even he would dare tread on such ground.

"This is magnificent! Truly, the Omnisiah has blessed us on this day! No one is to step foot within this chamber. No one! We contact the Magos immediately!"

Emile was about to press onto his Vox to contact Viola, but he was halted. Everyone was halted by the curdling scratches and cries that soon followed. Emile knew all too well the horrific sound that it was, the bellows of fore-coming death and violence that would soon befall them. Had they waited for this moment? No one knew, and Emile would not try to understand the mechanization of those foul and repugnant monsters. It was the cries of Tyranids, as they crept their way along the underbelly of the Hulk they resided within. This expedition was within the reach of an uncaring monster whose maw would do everything in its power to consume them. To consume everything indiscriminately.

He held up his bolter in preparation for attack. His brother did the same, knowing too the reality of what they were to face. Richell's soldiers held fast, even the nearly faint Ervin, whom only managed to barely maintain his sanity. Fear a foreign and uncertain concept to the Stormtroopers that surrounded them, but even they felt an imminent threat, and all were wary. The forces of the Mechanicus, and those of the Guard detachment with them were no different. All were ready to fight to the death should it be required, and they would do so willingly.

Vargos was the only among them all to speak, and waved his arms about in an uncanny show of emotion. He would not let it fall… this was their prize! Their gift!

"Do not let a single xeno enter this very chamber! Burn it all if you must! Annihilate every chamber, every corridor, every room and every vent! Blast this hulk to dust, ground its metal to nothing and leave nothing unturned! Give your life en-mass to protect this chamber! Suffer not the Xeno to live! Suffer not the monster to spread its taint to this unclaimed relic of mankind! Kill them all! Kill them all!"

* * *

_In Regard to Ambition_

_The grim-dark universe of the 41st millennia is a cruel and unforgiving one. Here death and stagnation run rampant, war and destruction but the common reality to many. Yet even in these times many have ambitions they hope to achieve. Such powerful driving forces, ambitions are, which can and will force people into doing anything to attain them. Whether it be stoop to any low, climb the highest of highs, or stay somewhere in-between. But I will not tell you how to feel of these who you see here in this tale. Hate, like, sympathize or pity them as much as it pleases you. It's a good thing that you can choose how you view them. They will be who they will be, and I will not defend any terrible actions they take. But I ask this; what lengths will anyone go for their ambitions? Can Ambitions change someone, make them better or worse than before? Does chasing your ambitions make anyone good or bad? Certainly some have ambitions of revenge or murder, but on the other hand some simply strive for a comfortable life or for those they cherish to be secure. Do such things even matter in a setting like Warhammer 40000, where lives are but blips on a cosmic scale, where so few are granted the ability to pursue what they desire? Everyone in this story has ambitions of some sort, and you will and have seen how they go about achieving them. I hope that this story makes you think about such things as ambition, and helps you come to your own understanding of it. Though this is all the ramblings of my thoughts, perhaps you see it differently, and that's ok. Everyone has their own way of seeing things, and I'm interested to hear others take on this. But if not, that's fine as well._

_Thank you for reading thus far, truly. _


	11. Chapter 11

**The Magos already** knew what had transpired. His sensors that were attached to every skiitari and his techpriest aboard the hulk already informed him. He knew what he needed to do. He would not hesitate, and for the first time in nearly three years he removed himself from his seat, and placed himself upon a mobile chassis, brought to him by a team of servitors. The process lasted no longer than an hour, and he was en-route to secure himself transport. Unfortunately, he calculated the time it would take for their company to notice his movement would be within a quarter of a single solar hour, and that was if the engagements had already occurred aboard the Hulk. Likely, the Tyranids had been incapable of burrowing into the sacred ship, and now only stirred that its doors opened. The twisted intelligence that drove them was cautious, strategic and clearly sought whatever remained inside. Or perhaps, these were but those disconnected from their ravenous hive, and simply desired to feast upon the bio-mass which existed within the derelict.

In either case, it mattered not. No, he had to seek his prize. Something he calculated with 99.99999999999876% certainty that would yield him far more returns than he originally estimated. Unfortunately, given the approximate size and presumed age of the hulk, there was likely nearly a million or so Tyranid bio-forms which now inhabited its reaches. While the forces present would be more than capable to hold out for a time, the probability was that extraction would be impossible if they did not recover what they sought within the solar week. They as a military force would cease to function as a usable resource again. Such was unfortunate, and an outcome wholly undesirable. Particularly because he himself would be joining those numbers aboard the ship. While he would not have been begrudged to leave those aboard to their fate in any other circumstance, this was not one of them.

His prediction was correct in the former Inquisitors response, brought to his attention through the personal vox installed into his brain functions. The image of the former Inquisitor, imprinted before his right auspex. She was not pleased.

"Well, Magos, it seems that this has escalated, hasn't it?"

The Magos grunted, annoyed that he had to comply with this line of questioning.

"Certainly, _former_ Inquisitor. But, I believe you now as I that it is neither of our interests to contact anyone else."

Viola wasn't foolish. While she and Reginald watched the mission from their command room, she thought about all of this, and of what was to come. She knew very well what the Magos meant. She already left the Inquisition for as much as she cared. From here on, it was about what was best for her and those she aligned herself with. While she would not forgo the Emperor, she was done with the Imperium's infuriating incompetence. To think she would finally admit now, how she viewed her Inquisitorial position. She would have been shot by herself if she was but five or so years younger. Ha. No, what she contacted the Magos for was to ensure he understood this, and that henceforth whatever came of this new development, stayed purely between these forces that existed here and now.

"You should already know where my allegiance lies. Calculate what I am going to ask yet?"

The Magos shifted through several tight corridors, his servitors surrounding him to ensure his mechanisms were at proper function. He was intrigued by her words, not that he hadn't anticipated such. He already ran thousands of simulations through his primary computer. This was the most beneficial option, for all of them. They would all be branded heretics and traitors, undoubtedly, if they were ever discovered to hide their findings. But he had already crossed that line in the eyes of the Mechanicum which ousted him. No, the moment he was banished from his original forge world and into the frontier, he knew they all but expected him to be snuffed out. Simply because his brethren wished not to eliminate him by more direct means. It was all but their loss.

Ha. Such would be funny, cause to laugh if he still maintained the functions. For their ascended state, many of his formor brethren were fools, stuck in their lust for power and acclimation. They believed he would be driven mad away from the resources of his forgeworld. Given nothing but the most minimal of forces, and cast away with a false mission. That was what they had believed, but their variables were wrong. He thrived here. Unimpeded by the tyrannical forces of those above. He fashioned his own Imperium here in the frontier, made powerful allegiances and discoveries. If what was promised to him aboard that ship, he nor his allies would ever need fear anything again. This woman, this now former inquisitor, Viola, was an asset. An asset he would outlive by thousands, and one that was of the upmost importance in the establishment of communication between his sect and House Valor. He already ran all the numbers, all the situations he could, and it was clear. She would not betray him, and House Valor would follow through. He already allied his Dark Anvil sect with those of the Faceless Legion, and they already proved to be more than formidable together. The inclusion of not only a Knight House but also a former Inquisitor would only prove to strengthen that. Their sector would be immeasurably powerful with such allies by his side, and once his personal forge world had been completed, their little Imperium would be complete. Then, away from the prying eyes of the greater Imperium, the true work would begin. It had been far too long of a pause however, nearly an entire second before he responded to Viola. Blast his tendency to lose himself to thought.

"I already know, Lady Viola. Do not fret. Be certain. As long as you remain loyal members of our allegiance, everything we find will be kept within our sector. Of course, I will ask you help me ensure that such secrets never escape our grasp."

Viola smiled, sat on Reginald's lap, as they both listened to the vox.

"Very well then. I simply wished to be certain. Just, do me a favor. Don't disclose what you find to anyone. Not even me. I'm sure that is the best path forward, correct?"

The Magos finally arrived to the hanger bay where a single breacher-class missile was already prepared for him. Without hesitation he proceeded to begin the loading protocols for his massive frame. All the while maintaining his conversation.

"Already with seeking a further grasp, are you? That is good. I look forward to inducting you and House Valor into my alliance. But I am sure you already know of it."

Viola gave him a nod.

"Because you gave us the path to find it in that data your techpriest installed."

Reginald agreed.

"We expect this alliance to be fruitful for all of us."

The Magos entered the missile, followed by the holy hymns of the crew behind him. The door shut over him as the harmonic voices echoed into his secondary vox.

"As do I. I am glad, I did not have to do anything drastic."

They all remained in silence, and knew that what they hoped to achieve with this conversation was accomplished. Thus the vox was turned off, and Viola immediately shifted to contact Emile and the others. Emile was quick to answer, huddled with his forces against the right wall of the sanctum.

"Yes, Viola? I am sure you have already contacted the Magos?"

Viola took a deep breath.

"Yes. In fact he's on his way down to the hulk. If you would, meet up with him for me."

Emile was silent for only a moment, expecting no less from her.

"I presume you've struck another deal, have you?"

Viola leaned herself back into Reginald.

"Of course."

Emile assumed as much. The dealing Viola made were always numerous and complex. Though, the further this operation went, the more he felt that this was the largest she had ever made while he's been in her service. A calculated gamble with stakes he was not fully aware of. But, it mattered not. He would listen, and do as was asked of him. He trusted in her, and so he would follow through.

He turned to Brother Eli and those under his command who anxiously stood beside him.

"It seems we have a new mission."

Richell saluted him with a hand to the chest. Her two soldiers and Ervin followed after. Though Ervin shook in his very cloths, terrified of the howls and roars that echoed along the halls. All of the Stormtroopers behind them all but silent as they held onto their weapons and listened.

Richell lowered her hand and pulled on the plasma-gun strapped to her side.

"Very well then, liege. What is our objective?"

More roars interrupted them as the walls themselves seemed to scratch all around them. Eli tapped the side of his bolter, anxious for the coming battle. The others as steadfast as they could be, Ervin barely able to stand much longer, his body struck by fear. But, he already resigned himself to this. He was already doomed, but if he was to go, at the very least he could make Richell proud.

Emile looked at the coordinates presented to him on his visor. It was only a thousand feet to the west sector of the hulk, that the approximate landing zone of the Magos was set. With luck it would be accurate enough to land within a few hundred of that location.

"We are going to head back into the hulk and wait for the arrival of the Magos."

Almost as if on que the infuriating techpriest from before, Argo, approached them. A small group of skiitari and a host of Imperial Guard behind him. He must have overheard. He waved a hand accusingly toward Emile.

"Are you now? The Magos is currently of the upmost priority alongside the protection of this holy sight. I will send my forces to find him. You, will remain here, where my forces can watch you."

Emile towered over the diminutive figure as he stepped up to him.

"I assure you, if you wish for this plan to succeed, I suggest leaving as many forces here as possible. Do not split yourselves for the beasts to devour one by one."

Argo grunted loudly for all to hear.

"The Magos deserves nothing but the upmost of protection!"

Emile interrupted him, no time to waste with his pride.

"And that is why myself and Brother Eli, of the Emperors chosen, will go find him. Do not ever think yourself my superior again. The forces behind me more than enough to accomplish this task. So I suggest you do as your Magos no doubt instructed you, and hold this location. Understood?"

Argo gritted his teeth, turned away and looked to the mass of movement that surrounded them. All of the Mechanicus and Guard forces in a buzz as they set about defending the gaping entrance to the holy site before them. He would never forgive this pompous space marine lest any harm fell upon the Magos. But, even he was not foolish enough to defy his Magos words and start conflict with the space marine or his forces. But, for his sanctity, he would not let them go completely alone.

"Fine. But I will insist that a squad of Skiitari follow you. To ensure, you succeed."

Emile voiced no objection, and only held a hand to prevent Eli from voicing those he was about to voice. With that and nothing else he turned away and began his walk towards the designated exit point. Where they would once again reenter the unknown realm of the hulk. His forces followed behind without objection either, and after them a small four man squad of skiitari who marched in unison. When they had reached far enough distance, away from the livid Argo, Eli spoke up to his brother.

"Emile, why would you allow that techpriest to talk to you in such a way?"

Emile shook his head, ever vigilant as he watched the upcoming hallway.

"It is not our place to argue with them, Eli. He backed down, despite his disdain and pride. He knew his place. That is enough. Focus on the task at hand."

Eli understood.

"Very well then, Emile."

Behind them, Richell and her soldiers were nervous for the coming venture. Richell hardened herself, one hand gripped onto the handle of her plasma gun, and the other pressed tightly over the imperial sigil on her uniforms chest. May the emperor guide them through this.

Ervin all but terrified once more, as if the bravery that he attained before vanished. His shoulders weighed down by both the weight of the mobile vox unit on his back and the despair that wanted to grasp his mind. The lasgun in his hands weighed down his arms as well, heavier than before. He breathed in deep, long breathes as he tried to calm his beating heart, but it rebelled. The roars and the scratching of the walls all but a specter that seemed to be right behind him. Yet he did not voice this, not a word. Richell at first scared him, but now, all he wanted to do was show her that he could be useful. She took the time to talk with him, despite the warnings and threats of death she had previously given, and he understood she cared about those under her. Though, equally, he knew she had to be as dire and as strict as she was, if she hoped any of them to come out alive. He only hoped he could stand up to that. So he swallowed the vomit that tried to escape his churning stomach, straightened himself out and pushed ahead, despite the tremors that shook his body. Even though all those with him could see through this façade, they all respected him the more for his persistence.

They soon entered the darkened maw, a hallway of twisted metal before them that stretched on for what seemed eternity, littered by debris and wires. An assortment of ships and whatever else, mashed together into a dark, grim world before them. There was no noise, there was no hesitation, they merely walked through, and then onward. Ushered by the skiitari that followed behind, their visors clicking and glowing with each step, as they relayed everything back to their techpriest.

The light that illuminated the sanctum they left faded into nothing but pitch darkness as they found themselves climb a set of stairs into some place above. The dark only shattered by the lights of the hot-shot las-gun's that the Stormtroopers carried. Shifting as they moved along. The tears and scratches of the walls around them everywhere they went.

Scratching and banging.

Banging and echoes.

Echoes and howls.

Howls and scratching.

It never ended, and they all knew it. They knew that they were watched. They were preyed upon and taunted. The swarm merely bided its time, for some reason no one could fathom. Yet they marched on. On and on, up the steps before them and into another hallway, one bathed in the light of the thousands of stars outside, through the glass that covered this sections of hallway. Compressed and unknowably thick, somehow they managed to survive being a part of the hulk altogether. An eerie sight indeed.

At the very top, Emile heard a different sound than those prior. A closer sound, as if something brushed along the wall. So they finally came. He held up his bolter, and with a single round fired into the darkness of a vent beside him, followed by the screeching death throes of the monster inside. It took no more than an instant later, and they were beset on all sides. Large, raptor like monsters with blades for hands, their bodies covered in thick scales, and eyes that glowed red. They charged from all directions, uncaring of what they bumped into and what they had to cross. Even if it meant trampling over their own brethren.

Immediately the Stormtroopers opened fire, and those with flamethrowers lit the air ablaze. Fire consumed all around illuminating the entire corridor in a radiant orange glow, but even this was not enough to stop the horde. The hot flames increasing the temperature around them by nearly twenty degrees. Emile stepped to the center of the group, beside his brother Eli as he fired into the swirling mass around them. Small worm like variants dropped from the ceiling, one at a time as they tried to catch them all unaware. Emile blasted as many as he could before they could even touch the ground. Using his combat knife he caught another out of the air before it reached his helmet. Eli followed in his example, as precise as his brother in every burst of his bolter. Richell and her guardsmen huddled against one another, side by side with Ervin who held out his las rifle and fired. Richell let out several bolts of plasma into the first creature that came near, its face melted away as it continued its charge. Only dying mere inches before it reached them. The sound of everyone drowned out in the cascade of violence which they found themselves within. The screeching cries of the monsters echoing off the walls and into the very bowels of the ship.

They moved along, a step at a time as the horde pushed around them. One by one, Stormtroopers were dragged away from the group and torn into nothing but pieces. Yet they did not mourn, they did not falter, and even those in death continued to fire their weapons. One Stormtrooper found himself struck by one of the scythes, and before he was pulled away, untucked the Melta bombs on his belt, and pulled the pin of the first. Within moments he was dead, a scythe through his mask and mutilating his brain. But he had done his duty, and at the very heart of the swarm the bombs he took with him exploded, eviscerating all in its radius. The shockwave sent the beasts reeling, the body parts not disintegrated flew in all directions. A spray of blood like a fine mist filling the air as it fell upon everything in the area. It was successful and the horde that had attacked them was thinned to nothing but two members now, their bodies riddled with scratches and wounds. But they did not give up, they did not turn away, they continued their charge like the mindless abominations they were. One straight for Ervin, who held up his las rifle in reflex to block the creatures scythe-like hands. Barely had he managed to avoid the blades edge, but even then his strength was not enough to resist it. He flew back, the weight of the vox on his back dragging him down to the ground. Yet still he held the las rifle in hand, though his wrist was bruised and twisted, and pushed away.

The creature only knocked off by the bolter round which hit the side of its body. It was just enough time for Ervin to back away along the ground and pull up his rifle. With a single, un-aimed shot, he pulled the trigger and a red laser shot through the creature's eye and ended it with an explosion of flesh and gore. Limp as it finally stopped its movement. The other creature already killed by Eli, who was pounced upon, and had to forcefully break the creature's neck with his bare hands. His bolter tossed to the ground from the surprise attack.

Then there was silence once more, not that anyone was set at ease by it. Richell and her soldiers survived, and thankfully not even had a scratch on them. Much to the thanks of the Stormtroopers around her. Nearly ten of them were killed in that confrontation, that she was certain of. Those that remained all around, their armaments still held up and ready in case anything else was to come. Ervin over the body of the dead tyranid he had killed as he kicked its head.

"I survived. Hah… Hah! I did it…"

He turned to the side as if to hurl but stopped himself. He sweated profusely as he felt sick, his temperature hot as his body seemed to boil. He was tense, his heart the only thing he could hear. But, seeing that everything went silent, it calmed, if only slightly. Richell stepped beside him, and held a hand on his shoulder.

"Well you aren't dead yet. Good job, Ervin. Might make a guardman yet."

He smiled, though he could not say anything. That he was alive was all the reason he needed. That he was praised at all was an amazement in this situation. And how everyone seemed to maintain their calm only made him uneasy. The terrors that Richell must have seen all but terrified him, and if she could recover after seeing this, then he only wondered what worse. But he survived. He made it.

Richells lieutenants gave him a nod, a smudge of respect for the voidsman garnered in this battle. Perhaps, if any of them made it out, and in what pieces, they would invite him for a drink. He would likely need it after all.

Emile looked on.

"Status report. What are our casualties?"

One of the Stormtroopers answered almost immediately, having already compiled his report.

"Ten of our number are dead. The skiitari that had come with us are nowhere to be seen. We will take what supplies we can from the dead, and shall continue."

Emile gave him a nod to acknowledge him, and then contemplated their current situation. The skiitari were gone. Likely they were removed first, being those at the back. Damn. But, he and his forces managed to make it through one group of the Tyranids. Yet it was a hollow victory at best, for that was likely nothing but a scouting force. The next time they were attacked there was sure to be more than double what they fought here. And if they dispatched those, then triple the next. But, that they eliminated the skiitari first, revealed a sort of intelligence that showed some higher thinking among them. If they were just ravenous and out of control, there would have been no end to them and they would have not attempted an ambush. No, there was a Tyranid bio-form that lead them. One of the larger of the species, but which he did not know, and in truth with the tyranids one could never know.

He looked to his brother Eli who cleaned his bolter of the blood that stained it. His armor acquired a new scratch, along his right shoulder plate. He was calm, at ease thankfully. It was after all, neither his nor Elis first time meeting these foul creatures.

"Eli, you are unharmed?"

Eli nodded.

"Yes. But, unfortunately one managed to get a jump on me. I'll be sure to be more careful in the future."

Emile grunted.

"I hope so, Eli. Remember, stay focused, and stay stalwart. The next wave will likely be much larger."

Eli looked down the corridor.

"True, brother. But, when is the more appropriate answer."

Eli looked at the coordinates given to him once more. The Magos was expected to arrive in less than a solar hour, and with their current predicament, it was possible he would arrive before they got there. They had to move forward.

"We are nearly there to the designated point. We will make haste and arrive as soon as possible, and then, we will barricade ourselves in a defensive location until we are able to locate the Magos."

Richell beat her chest.

"Of course, liege. All forces, you heard him. And watch those fucking vents!"

Emile looked to the stormtroopers.

"As insurance, use the meltabombs left on the dead to blow the corridor opposite us. It will not stop any more advances, but may buy us some time."

Several stortroopers ransacked the bodies of their dead and acquired what Emile ahd asked. Then they placed them along the walls of the opposite corridor. A single stormtrooper with a flamethrower lit the area on fire with promethium, and soon it exploded as the walls melted and crumbled in so that the corridor was blocked off by the debris that followed. That done, there was nothing left to do while remaining here, and so they all began their march again. Off into the bowls of the hulk, and further into the realm of the beasts they had narrowly just defeated.

In silence Emile and his forces slowly moved along the straight corridor before them. The glass panes still on their left as the dim light of the stars poured inside. They watched their surroundings carefully, and were suspect of every little sound. Richell and her men were just as paranoid as the Stormtroopers as they peered anxiously along the other side. Every time they came to another split in the corridor, it was all that many of them could focus on. Even when they passed by, it was unsettling for they knew it was all but another point by which the tyranids could surround them. Emile and Eli were at the front, their bolters held to their chests as they led the group along.

Within a private vox, Eli spoke to Emile.

"How many do you think will survive? Will we survive?"

Emile knew that the losses they had already incurred would weigh on his young brothers mind.

"I am not sure, Eli. With our current circumstances, I would say our chances are slim. And without the Skiitrari that the techpriest sent with us, I am afraid we may very well be alone in this for now."

Eli gripped the handle of his bolter.

"Tyranids are such foul creatures, Emile. And to think they waited this long to appear."

Emile nodded.

"Certainly. But there is something behind them here, something smart. A brood lord, perhaps. Then again, I did not see any genestealers. Like those we had encountered while we were on that hulk."

Eli thought back to those days. They managed to survive for nearly a solar week alone, using the equipment and resources available to them aboard that hulk. None of the tyranids they had encountered here were like those, the genestealers. Six armed with claws sharp enough to tear through the frames of even terminators. The ability to convert others into thralls to spread themselves. Resembled in a mockery of the human form. That they had not seen any here was very fortunate. Not that he would dismiss the idea that perhaps they would make an appearance. Still, Emile was correct. Something was strange about this hulk.

"True. What variant are they then?"

Emile recalled the scythe like appendages that the tyranids had. He had encountered such on a single occasion beforehand. They were the most basic combat form, aside from the small ones which attempted to fall from above. It was during his first combat, in defense of a world that was being evacuated. The splinter of a hive ship lodged into the planets side, and from it, an endless wave of the vicious monstrosities.

"They are the more standard variant. How they came to be on this ship however is a mystery that I am sure we will not want to discover."

Eli took a deep breath to process the possibilities.

"Perhaps we won't have to, if we are lucky."

Emile looked at the coordinates once more. They were nearly to the general area the Magos was supposed to land.

"Very true, Eli."

Behind them, Richell walked in front of the stormtroopers, as she watched Ervin ahead of her. She was glad he didn't get himself killed in that last excursion. In some ways, perhaps she became fond of him. It always happened this way with her soldiers. She hoped he would survive, regardless of how foolish it was. She never wanted to accept that those under her command would die, and often in painful ways. But it was her job as commander to see the mission through, one way or another. To order them to death if it was necessary. She could only hope that the Emperor would protect, and if not, carry their souls away from this hell when dead.

Her lieutenants were silent ahead of her, one in front of and one behind Ervin. Lt. Jimmy started to despise the odd silence they found themselves in, and so he slowed his walk to be beside Ervin.

"Well there bud, how you like your first bit of combat?"

Ervin shook his head, his hands clamped ever tighter on his las gun.

"I survived. That's all the matters."

Lt. Jimmy patted him in the back.

"Yep… we survived. You look like crap though. Sure you'll push on?"

Ervin gave a nod, not wanting to talk. Not right now, when he had to focus.

"Yeah…"

Lt. Jimmy rolled his eyes. He wouldn't get anywhere with him. Not that he blamed the sorry sod. A guardsman's life was always short, and never easy. Ha! He walked ahead to the other lieutenant. Ervin left to himself as he thought. He would survive. He would survive. He already killed one of those things, even if it was a fluke. He would do it again if he had to. He would survive.

The group started to walk past another split off of the corridor. Covered in shadow as one peered along it, covered by debris and wires that nearly sealed it off. But Ervin payed no mind as those in front had not.

He would survive. He would survive. He would make it back. He wouldn't die here like this. He took several more steps, almost towards the center of the split.

He smiled to himself as he thought about it. He would survive. He already killed one of those things. He could do it again. He wouldn't die here. He made it to the center of the split.

No one was prepared for what came next.

A pair of red glowing eyes shattered the darkness behind the mess of wire and debris. A scythe shined in the light, and before anyone could react, it swung right through the wires and busted through. Eli was the first to fire, having turned around just in time, knocking the creatures aim off course. But Ervin was not spared the blow, he fell forward as both of his legs, from the knee downward, flew off of his body and into the air around him with a stream of blood. Lt. John Roe, turning around just in time for the creature's second strike, sending his head flying off into the glass pane beside him.


	12. Chapter 12

**Ervin screamed in terrible agony, limp on the floor.** He could not feel his legs, he felt weak, and he dared not even attempt to look at his legs. They were gone. He knew that, he couldn't feel them, but he didn't want to look anyway. Not that the pain would let him.

The Tyranid was shot to death above him, and slumped back into the shadows, its lifeless form riddled with holes. A mess of blood and body parts sprayed around the corridor from it. Ervin cried as he looked out at the glass pane beside him, into the vastness of space. So cold and uncaring. This was it. He was done for. He was encircled by the others, the Stormtroopers igniting the corridor in promethium as it burned hotly. But he was still cold. Richell knelt beside him.

"Ervin, hold on. Listen to me, don't you dare die voidsman!"

Ervin took several short deep breaths. His hands shook, his whole body shook. He was dying. That was it. That was…

He shook his head.

"I… I hope I did you proud, Richell."

Richell gritted her teeth. Every time she grew close to someone this happened. They went away. She could hardly bare it. But as a commander, she always had to accept that her soldiers were destined to die. Not even the Emperor would decide when, it just happened. And now, here she was again. After Ervin had just gotten his nerve, after she…

Emile stood beside her, bolter in hand as he looked on ahead. This was unfortunate, and tragic. Yet he knew that they had a mission to accomplish. Where they thought he would die immediately, he survived. Ervin's life was not spent in vain, at least, Emile hoped Richell would see it as such. He looked at his bolter, and considered the thought of mercy. But it was not his place to do so. No.

"Commander Richell. We must move on."

Richell gripped the small autogun at her side. She only carried it around for such things as this. As much as she hoped never to use it. She knew what the Space Marine told her. She knew that they could not stay for a dying man. Yet as she looked down at him, shivering and barely breathing, something came over her. Pity perhaps. No, that wasn't it. It reminded her of something… that day Viola was taken away from her. Rue the day…

"My liege… I…"

Emile rested a hand on her shoulder, heavy as it pressed on her.

"He will not last long, Commander Richell. I am sorry, but it is best to give him the Emperors mercy. So that he will not suffer and we can move on."

Ervin was terrified. He knew what was about to happen. But… he… he didn't want to die. He didn't want to die! Fuck! But he knew it was best. He had to. Nobody chose their fate in this forsaken universe. He had to accept that.

"Richell… you… you have to do it…"

Richell flinched at his words. She gripped the handle of her small autogun, and pulled it away from her belt. She held it up, tears almost in her eyes. She had learned to hold them at bay so long ago, and here she would do no different. She firmly held the gun besides Ervins head, who gave her a last smile. A last smile…

* * *

Just before all this had transpired, Viola monitored the progress of the ground team on their mission. They had managed to fend off one wave of the Tyranids aboard the vessel. Much to her comfort, only minimal casualties were had. But she and Reginald both knew that they would not last long given their current estimates. Reginald peered over the map constructed from the data provided by the Dark Anvil. He grunted in frustration as he saw what it revealed. Viola was frustrated as well, though she knew full and well that this mission had to have something pop up. They always did.

"A hive ship is jammed within the confines of the hulk. It was simply too deep to detect at first, was it? I don't think we were told everything, my dear Viola."

Viola watched the heart monitors of those members still alive from her boarding crew.

"I am not so sure. Though, I believe they had more of a suspicion as towards the scale of the xenos incursion aboard the hulk. That's likely why they had so many troops and war machines dedicated to this."

Reginald sighed as he turned towards her.

"You are right. What of the Techpriest they sent us? Has Verdun and him gotten along?"

Viola mused at the thought.

"They are probably enjoying their little mechanical hearts out. Once they connected the feed, they went off together to discuss topics of the mechanicum. I'm sure it has been a breath of fresh air for Vurdun."

From his seat, the Commander of the Faceless legions forces, spoke up.

"I assure you. The Magos did not know of the presence of a hive ship. We simply considered the possibility of a genestealer infestation and prepared accordingly. Do not worry, things will go as planned. As for 02, I am sure he is trying to sway that techpriest of yours about now."

Viola looked over to him, glad he finally showed signs of intelligence.

"Well, you have been rather quiet lately haven't you? Why is that, commander?"

The Commander propped his elbows on his knees, even his power fist clamped together with his normal one.

"Forgive me, Lady Viola. I simply wished to observe both you and Lord Reginald myself first."

Reginald turned to face him as well.

"We assumed. Now, may you provide us with a name?"

The commander nodded.

"Very well. My name is Ergo, Commander of the 51st legionaries, devoted to the protection and aide of our allies the Dark Anvil. Particularly the Magos. As I told you before, I am but a loyal member of my order. So, what is our course of action?"

Viola looked over the display of the mapped hulk. The hive ship was embedded deep within its form, its tendrils slowly but surely growing along its corridors. She was no expert on these foul creatures biology, but she knew their adaptability. If they were left to their own devices while trapped within the hulk, the tendrils would only reach further and further until it consumed it entirely. Fed by any poor souls who come across it and attempt to board. They could not risk the chance of the hulk becoming something else…

"The hulk needs to be eliminated, before the Tyranids manage to cover it all."

Commander Ergo stood from his seat.

"I agree. But, I am sure you are both aware that we will not leave until what we have come for is attained?"

Reginald knew well the stakes of this. They all had high stakes in this. That is why he looked so carefully over the schematics of the known hulk. There were several plasma cores of ships long passed between the Dark Age ship and the embedded Tyranid hive ship. As a Lord of his house he was trained from the time he was able in the art of war and politics. House Valor priding themselves on their tactical prowess. Though even the fearsome knight would fall to enough enemies, and that was a lesson pressed onto every young pilots mind. That is why, when an enemy force larger than oneself was coming, one cut their path and divided the enemies' numbers. The Hulk before them was made into an abhorrent sphere of twisted ships and debris. The plasma cores all condensed in its center. If they were to explode, the hulk would violently rip and separate given his estimations. If the tales he heard of Dark Age technology was true, and the ship they intended to scope was intact, it would survive the explosion with no repercussions. All of their current forces could be moved within to withhold the blast. The rest of the hulk exposed to the vacuum of space, and the majority likely frozen over as all air was pulled out-effectively killing the hive ship inside. Not that they wouldn't bombard that section of the hulk afterwards until it was not but fragments. It was a more than risky and complex plan, but it could work. Perhaps it was their best chance.

"I suggest that we separate our forces from the enemy. Only…"

Viola already assumed the plan that ran through his head. Daring certainly. Though she knew that it all depended upon the Magos.

"How will the Magos react?"

Commander Ergo walked over to the simulated map. He saw what they intended. Very well.

"I will contact the Magos immediately. And then, if he approves, we can move forward with what plan you propose. As long as my forces aren't an expendable resource, of course."

Viola tapped her forehead with a roll of the eyes.

"Trust me. We would rather not waste such resources."

The screen depicting her boarding forces life monitors started to flash red as they were suddenly attacked again. She turned quickly to see what had happened, only to also realize that the Magos had also just made landfall onto the hulk. Not but a few meters away from her boarding team. The Magos indeed had landed at the proper time. Not as effectively or as close to his target as she would have accepted, but it was well enough that he landed by friendly forces.

Those friendly forces currently in a bout of mercy as Richell raised her auto-gun to shoot Ervin and put him out of his misery. None noticed the arrival of the Magos who simply hovered over them and stared down at the scene before him. It would be a waste for a soldier to die now. All had to be used as long as possible.

"Hold off, guardsman."

Richell pulled away her hand as she noticed the giant that stood before them, nearly double the size of the noble Space Marines. His massive bulking frame a mesh of mechanical legs and numerous other parts that only the Magos himself understood, barely cloaked by the massive black and white cloth that hung over him. Emile gave a small bow for respect, his brother Eli doing the same.

"Magos. I see you are unharmed."

The Magos reached down with several of his many servo arms and grasped Ervin. A whir of gears and other parts running as he did so. Ervin too frightened to say anything as the Magos looked him over. Those of the flesh were always so dramatic when parts were lost.

"Ah… not but legs are missing."

Behind him two of his other servo arms grabbed two of the many leg units attached to his undercarriage and unhinged them. With but a subconscious action, two other servo arms prepared them for the next step. Such was a simple surgery, one easily accomplished by one such as himself. One of his favorite procedures after all, was the meshing of flesh and machine. A bit of practice would be good while he was here, in preparation for what he would need to investigate.

"It will take all but a moment. Please, do not scream."

A dozen of his many limbs set to work, before even a whisper of protest could be given by anyone. Ervin felt as the Magos tore into the ripped parts of his legs, removed excess bone and dug mechanical wires into his very nerves. It was all too much for him, and he passed out into unconsciousness. The pain no longer bearable. Luckily for him, for all else had to watch as the Magos performed the surgery openly without a care, blood and pieces of flesh thrown here and there, as the mechanical legs were finally meshed with the voidsmans stumps. Emile and the stormtoopers uncaring for the gruesome deed, compared to Eli who could only stare away. Lt. Jimmy couldn't bare the sight and looked away, nearly throwing up. Of all the horrors he had seen this outdone a good many of them. Richell similarly was in awe and disgust of what transpired before her eyes, but just as well was relieved. She carefully stuffed the autogun back into her holster, and watched. Ervin would live, the lucky bastard.

When the Magos was done. He tossed Ervin, still unconscious over towards Richell who caught him in her arms.

"There… now, I hope that this shares some goodwill. Your master is a very… paranoid woman. Now, does anyone else, require repairs?"

He noticed that one of the Stormtroopers hands were nearly removed. Ah. More practice.

Without any regard for an answer he pulled them out of their rank and set to work replacing their hand, noticing several others who would benefit from his repairs.

Emile held onto his helmet to contact Vioa through his vox.

"Viola, are you there?"

Viola responded swiftly.

"I see you lost a guardsman. Give Richell my usual condolences. What of the Magos?"

Emile looked at the behemoth of machine before him, as he gleefully replaced a hand of one of the stormtoopers with one of his seemingly endless replacements.

"We have him. We will proceed to escorting him back now."

Violas tone changed as she responded with an immediacy she usually reserved.

"Emile, begin heading back immediately! There is a swarm headed in your direction."

The Magos spoke up, having intercepted all of their communications.

"It appears so, Lady Viola. With our current forces, it would be impossible to get back the way we came. So I suggest, a shortcut downward into the corridors they came from."

"If it would save time and resources, then do it Magos."

That was all the Magos needed to hear as he began to use the plasma cutters installed in his chases on the floor beneath him. The metal burned hot red as he began to cut through for what supported it.

"This will take a small amount of time. I hope that you Space Marines are on par with my simulations. Do not disappoint me."

Emile and Eli turned down the hallway as the screeches of before echoed off the walls. The sparks of blades rubbing against the floor lighting through the darkness to reveal the monstrous glimpses of the Tyranid bio-forms that raced for them.

Emile gave Eli a nod.

"Prepare for battle! Defensive positions!"

Promethium fired from the Stormtroopers at the front, as all else fired their weapons ahead into the writhing mass. Those that first came were mowed to pieces, while the second wave ran directly into the flames melting to a halt on contact. They held off for now, but soon the waves would become so crowded it would be inevitable.

Eli was almost blindsided by one that came from a vent above. Using his bolter as a shield he tossed the creature to the ground. Using the combat knife at his side he swiftly brought it to bare. The tyranid was quick to stand nearly shoving him in the process. But Eli would not give it the chance, and with his free hand pushed onto its neck. He swung his knife through its eyes immediately after, till it fell limp. Only to turn to the side and swing at the next one that attempted to strike him. He managed to shove it aside as he stepped back toward the Magos. He noted that his Bolter was covered by the corpse of another Tyranid blasted by a volley of las fire. He gripped his armored hands tight into fists knowing he had no other options.

The Magos noticed him turned in his direction.

"Weaponless, Space Marine?"

Eli grabbed the head of another Tyranid that hopped over a stormtrooper, ripping its arm off with a single tug. Then turning the bladed end on its former body, shoving it through its neck as blood splattered all across his armor.

"No. Do not doubt me, Magos."

The Magos ran several more calculations while he continued to melt away at the ground in search for the beam which made the floor stable. Without a weapon the Space Marine would likely only last several more Tyranids before the probabilities became too skewed.

"Here, take this."

The Magos pulled a plasma gun from underneath his cloak, from his stash of weapons. He had hoped to save this for later lest the opportunity was direr. However, the Space Marines were too much of an asset.

Eli grabbed it and brought it to half charge. He had had very little experience with such heavy weapons but, he would manage. He pulled the trigger as a hot stream of plasma streamed forward in a ball and melted into the horde ahead of them. Eli couldn't help but give a smirk underneath his helmet, for this certainly felt more effective than his bolter right now.

Two Stormtroopers were plucked away from the side as a large snakelike Tyranid slithered from the side corridor. Using its long tentacles it gripped around their necks and snapped them, pulling their bodies to its mouth as it consumed their heads, seeking the information contained within their brains. Lt. Jimmy brought his flamer to its face as it keeled away, only to be eviscerated from the plasma shot fired by Richell who still clung to Ervin's unconscious body.

Lt. Jimmy was tired of this shit! He looked at the Magos who cut through the ground.

"Would you hurry up you damned clanker!"

The Magos would have been bothered if he hadn't already injected himself with his emotional suppressants.

"The task is done."

The floor before them gave way as the beam which supported this section of floor was finally cut in half. All the forces falling down to the corridor below without warning. The Magos using a dozen of his servo arms to toss meltabombs. They bolted at unprecedented speed from their grasp and into the corridor above them. Just as calculated they exploded in the proper time, the corridor collapsed into a mess of melted metal and dead tyranid bioforms, only three Stormtroopers caught in the blast. Unfortunately, several Stormtroopers, two guardsmen and that Voidsman he had saved fell into a different corridor on the lower level. A large piece of debris falling over the hole so that it blocked them from following. Unfortunate and nothing else. It was a calculated risk, one that was necessary.

Emile pushed himself up from his knee, barely fazed by the sudden turn of events. He looked first for his brother Eli, who had fallen beside the Magos, but who was otherwise unharmed. Then he looked at the remaining forces. All he could see were about ten Stormtroopers. A foolish wave of sadness over the likelihood of Richells death soon after. A feeling he had to shake away.

"Commander Richell."

The Magos looked to him, his head swayed akin to a snake, his neck covered in hundreds of wires and hoses.

"Unfortunately they were separated from us into the adjacent corridor by the fall. By my calculation there is a slim chance they will recover and make it back to the sanctum where the Dark Age ship is currently. Now, come along Space Marine. We must make ground."

Emile dreaded such times as this. The mission had to go on. Even if it was without the others. He walked over to Eli, who brushed off the dust from his armor.

"Are you unhurt?"

Eli gave him an affirmative nod.

"Yes. But… what of the others trapped?"

Emile only walked on after the Magos who continued forward.

"There is nothing to be done. I am sorry, Eli. We need to focus on the task at hand."

Eli gripped his hands tightly together. To be a space marine was never easy. Begrudgingly he followed after, haunted by the thought of those they left behind, trapped in another corridor. A hint of anger directed at his brother for simply giving up on them, even if it was the most logical path. Not that he didn't understand why. The Stormtroopers with them all gathering themselves and their weapons before they continued along, rank and file.

Emile did care however, and so he reported it in.

"Viola. Do you hear me?"

Viola responded. Through her voice, he could tell she already knew the situation. She did come to care of commander Richell, if only because she told herself that she was useful. But there was something else, like something deep down she could not gather. But this was not the place for sentimentality. Loss was inevitable in these operations.

"Yes…"

"Commander Richell was separated from us. Along with several others."

"Yes."

Emile trudged on, they all did, further away.

"There is a chance."

"A slim one."

Silence came soon after. It was unusual for Viola to do so with him, and Emile knew that she felt something from this. Where she had so easily left thousands to die in painful agony before, this was different. It only made it all tragic given that Richell had known Viola before, even if Viola wasn't aware of it.

"Viola, what do you think of Commander Richell."

Viola grunted.

"Do not console me Emile. I do not need it."

That all but confirmed Emiles suspicion that she cared. That was enough for now.

"I am sorry. I will not pry."

Viola didn't end the line, merely remained quiet. She didn't know why either. This was a different feeling for her. She had always been able to trust commander Richell to accomplish whatever task she gave her. Viole had assigned her on life or death missions thousands of times before this, and she always came back. She always…

She needed to stop this foolishness. Richell knew the inevitability of life as a guardsmen. But she wasn't a guardsmen anymore, was she? No… she was a voidsman aboard her crew. Viola rarely thought of anyone among her crew, save those individuals who either garnered her approval or those who got her scorn. The prior of those two generally lasting long enough for her to dispose of before she promptly forgot them. But Richell… things had always been strange with her. Damn that woman for this... why did she care so much for this? This simple matter of life and death which was so common in this universe. She was able to send thousands to die, doom entire planets, and this is what bothered her. That one of her crew was lost, and likely to die. It was frustrating.

She held her stomach. Perhaps that she would be a mother was all that this was. Her brain convincing her to have such sympathies. Yes… that was what it was. While she would give such to her child and Reginald, they were above the normal populace. She was above the normal populace.

Reginald was behind her, still looking over the maps. He noticed her fidget as she moved her seat. He turned around to see her, her face rife with uncertainty. She felt sorry for those who had died. Reginald had lost many a comrade in arms before, and some he had even ordered. He always felt grief for their loss, but it was the natural course of things.

"It is only human, Viola, to care."

Viola turned back to look at him.

"I know. But that doesn't make it any less frustrating."

Reginald nodded.

"Despite our status, those we order to live rarely do. It is frustrating to see those we have deemed to care about die, Viola, do not have shame in it. They are not dead yet, they have a chance. But, we both know the likelihood of that."

Viola sighed, laid her head back onto the seat and peered up at the ceiling.

"You are right. I do feel sad. They were good soldiers."

Reginald gave her a comforting nudge.

"Shall we push on, my dear Viola?"

Viola looked at the screen of the life signals of the boarding team she sent. The stormtroopers nothing but expendable fodder, the voidsman and the guardsman with Richell all the same. Commander Richell herself though… blast it. She cared for one of her underlings, and that was fine. She was human after all.

The commander of the Faceless Legion looked over to her. He was slightly amazed by the compassion shown by Viola. Part of this visit was to determine the character of these new allies, and he was glad for it. That she was an Inquisitor attempting to leave her order, was all he needed know, but that she had the capacity for compassion for those she sent earned respect from him. The Faceless Legion prided themselves on their soldiers, and those they kept alive. Perhaps, he could help in this. A show of goodwill, to allies in need.

"Lady Viola, if I may…"

Viola looked up to him. So he wanted to be useful now, did he.

"I was hoping you would speak up, Commander."

* * *

**_Just a heads up, wont be posting a chapter next Thursday and possibly Friday due to Thanksgiving. I edit every chapter before I post and usually that usually takes a good while, and not sure if I will be able to during those days. But, chapters will be posted as usual on Saturday and Sunday. Anyhow, Happy Thanksgiving all, hope everything's going well, and as always, thanks for reading!_**


	13. Chapter 13

**Commander Richell was in nothing but awe of their misfortune. **They had survived the last engagement, but now they were put into an even worse situation. It was just her, Ervin, Lt. Jimmy and two Stormtroopers. The corridor before them blocked off, and their only path forward into the darkness ahead of them. Ervin coughed as he opened his eyes, his body bruised and beaten but still functional. His legs were heavy, though that he even felt them was a wonder to him.

"Where… Where am I?"

Lt. Jimmy held onto his flamer, which managed to survive the fall. He couldn't help but feel melancholy about all of this, and the irony that Ervin posed was too much.

"Saved to be thrown into this. Tragic isn't it?"

Ervin held onto his head as it spun. He was still groggy, uncertain how to feel.

"What?"

Richell walked over to him, through the debris. She coughed out the dust from her lungs as she went.

"Ervin. Glad to see you're still among the living. How do you feel?"

Ervin couldn't help but flinch as he sat up, to glimpse at his metal legs for the first time.

"W-what the hell?"

He felt the cold metal and as he did, there was an unnatural reaction as if it was still flesh. That Magos or whatever he was did this to him… it was…

Richell coughed again as more dust escaped her lungs.

"We were separated. Now come on, we have to get moving."

Ervin only nodded. It was no use questioning this. He was alive, and that was it. Through all this hell he had gone through, that's what he learned. If your alive, don't give up.

"R-Right…"

The two Stormtroopers were in the best shape of all of them. The setback hardly registered in their minds as a terrible fate, as they were prepared for death always. It was their mantra and their reality. They were the first to recover all of their gear and check themselves, only minor bruises and a few cuts between them. They still had their commanding officer with them, and so they would continue on. If it came that they were all that survived, they would likely just kill themselves as was protocol to ensure that nothing gets out to the enemy. For now, they simply held out their hotshot lasguns, the flashlights underneath illuminating the corridor ahead, draped in loose wires and cables. It was a demoralizing sight, one that sank fear into all of their hearts, save the two stormtroopers. Until they heard the vox, still strapped to Ervin's back buzz. The vox had somehow survived! It was a man's voice, though whose they did not know. In such circumstances however, few would question.

"Come in. Guardsmen, respond."

Ervin undid the straps that held on his backpack as fast as he could. He laid it down onto the ground so he could set it up, fumbling his cold and bruised hands as he did. When he finnaly undid the back strap he reached in and grabbed the receiver to respond.

"T-This is… *cough*… the breaching team. We are currently separated from the others…"

The vox clicked back.

"Good to hear you. This is Commander Urgo of the Faceless Legion. Lady Viola asked me to instruct you back to safety. If you are able to push forward. Understood?"

Ervin, Richell and Lt. Jimmy all looked at one another, amazed at the small glimmer of hope that was given to them. Thank the Emperor.

* * *

It did not take much to convince Commander Urgo to assist them. As a member of the Faceless Legion, the lives of guardsmen were considered much more carefully than most. He was sympathetic enough to do so, despite everyone's acceptance of their unlikelihood to escape. But he would try, and this was a good way for him to pass the time as he and the others waited for the Magos response. So he sat at the vox station that was established in the command room, and intently looked over the data that he had available. Richell's team was severely off course, even though they had only fallen into a side corridor. Such was the nature of hulks, so twisted and winding that it was easy to become hopelessly lost. But he was determined to give them a fighting chance, or at the very least, a hope that they could die with. They had to traverse a large series of corridors and through several rooms as far as the simulated map showed, and such things were rarely accurate. The Tyranid infestation slowly coming to force was also a concern, for all it took was a small swarm and their fates were sealed. For now, the majority of reports indicated that single bio-forms traversed the halls looking for stragglers, likely clearing a path for the swarm to enter the sanctum where the entrance to the Dark Age ship was. Commander Urgo would not be dissuaded, and if they proved themselves as guardsmen and pushed on, he knew there was a chance.

Viola watched Commander Urgo as he sat across the room from her and Reginald, shifting through the Vox system that she provided to him. She was saddened by the situation Commander Richell found herself in, though she herself hardly knew why. It was odd, strange even, a faint memory just out of reach. Soft. To think she had gotten this soft. She would have merely accepted them as casualties before and left them to their fate, perhaps instructing them to give themselves the Emperors mercy. She watched entire worlds crumble with millions still within them, ordered entire cities to be executed and herself had killed thousands of those who stood against her. She never liked losing her forces of course, such was always an unfortunate loss of resources. But this was different, it was _very_ different. She felt actual, honest sadness from this turn of events, when she shouldn't have cared. They mattered and it infuriated her. Viola gripped the edge of her chair as she tried to come to grips with all of this.

Reginald turned away from the mapped simulation of the hulk as he noticed her discomfort. He knew she cared for those below her.

"I see you are worried about your guardsmen."

Viola cleared her throat.

"It is foolish I know."

Reginald rested a hand on her shoulder.

"It is only human, Viola, that we feel these things. I am sure, Commander Urgo will do what is possible. Worry not my Lady."

Viola gave a small smile as she placed a hand over his. Too soft indeed.

"Perhaps you are correct."

Reginald leaned over his soon to be, his queen.

"Viola, you will help me usher in a new era in this sector. We will care for our subjects and guide them, whether it be with an iron hand or subtle push. But I don't need to tell you this, I am sure you are already ahead of me."

Viola chuckled.

"Of course. Wouldn't be fitting for me otherwise, would it?"

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

The two spent the next few moments in a blissful silence, simply the presence of the other all they needed. Both of them were certainly formidable people, hardened and shaped by the cruel universe that they were born into. Into the roles and status that fate had assigned them. Yet even they had found something in each other, for at the end of the day they were human. Genuine moments of affection and perhaps what one would call love, a bond, formed by a chance meeting that evolved into something much greater.

Such moments were rare aboard Viola's vessel. The majority of the crew so disillusioned from the hope of life that they rarely cared for such things. Only the officers and others worthy enough were awarded even the smallest of commodities, even gave it the thought. The act much more common than any feelings of romance, and even then it was usually bereft of hope for the future. So that the former Inquisitor to have the leisure of such things, showed a change aboard, a single sprinkle of hope. Then again, how many of her crew saw this as merely another luxery awarded to only the special few was uncertain, though certainly the idea that they could have a life outside this damned crusade was in the air. Across the hallway, a young girl and the soldier who protected her attempting this very thing.

Erina and the guardsman who took out Ceres, Michael, talked with one another. It was of nothing serious, nor was it even of the current events that surrounded them. It was a quiet conversation, about the strangest and simplest of things. But Erina didn't mind. As she talked with him, she saw into his memories, and learned all about the world he came from. The Faceless Legion, a unique branch of the Imperial Guard which had a heavy emphasis on the livelihood of its guardsmen. So much that they rarely deployed out of their sector, so that they would always be able to return home again. Something that severely limited their capacity and made them easily used by other forces, but it also proved a powerful strength. Michael was a young legionnaire, assigned to the division which served as the Dark Anvils guards. The Legionnaires of the Faceless Legion young single individuals, who would find spouses amongst the worlds they were stationed before returning home to have children. For the Faceless Legion was never bereft of soldiers and their homeworld was one of never decreasing numbers. From a young age all were raised to be soldiers, tight nit, as if within a large family. Apparently, it made them an indomitable fighting force that would fight fiercely to the end because they cared so highly among each other, and it made communications far smoother than between different regiments. The world seperated into various Legionary houses, some larger than others. Those who weren't sent out as Guardsmen left at home in a home guard, often to maintain the bloodlines in families and ensure they continued. Michel's family quite large, likely the reason he was placed into the ranks of the Techpriests guard, as it gave him the largest chance to survive. It was all so fascinating, and Erina grew an interest in her young soldier. He was her best chance.

She sat on her bed, her legs crossed as she watched him. She had put on a new set of clothes after the unfortunate event with that filthy psyker, and made sure to be as well dressed as was possible. It took a while for her to convince Michael to simply sit down though, as he felt uncertain around her. It was actually rather cute how out of his wits he was, and that he had no idea she knew all about him. Though as they talked, Erina could feel he had come around and loosened up.

"So, what is life back home like?"

Michel rested his hands on his lap, his mask still over his face.

"It's a beautiful place, covered in forests and mountains and such. Really makes such a good place to…"

Erina finished his sentence for him.

"To train?"

Michael was amazed.

"That's the third time you've managed to guess what I was going to say."

Erina chuckled coyly.

"Well, I suppose I'm just good at guessing."

Michael continued to watch her. He had never been in an officer's quarters, a bit larger than his own and much more decorated. Though, what was more unusual for him was his company, a civilian. Back home, civilians were almost always former legionaries who had already served on their tour and declined to enter the veteran legions. The only other civilians the families of the legionaries who returned home. Every family line had to be kept alive after all, and so each left members home to replenish those that died out in the wars. Though this woman, wasn't a soldier. In that vein he had a hard time thinking of what to say to her. He hadn't had much time interacting with anyone who wasn't part of a military organization, being stuck on an exploritor class vessel as he was. Not that he didn't find himself interested in her. She was actually a very beautiful young woman, and she was someone he saved. His family always told him that the savior always had to take responsibility for the saved. Still, that she was so innocent and kind really warmed his heart. Why was she aboard this ship anyhow? It was an Imperial vessel, of the most curious sort, being under the Inquisition. Or, used to be anyway.

"So, why are you here? What led you to this place?"

Erina knew he would eventually ask that.

"O-Oh… that… it was a tragic series of events really."

Admittedly, she did not feel this way. No, this was the best thing to have happened to her. And she had nobody left from her former life which tormented her, especially her mother. But, she could let none know. She had to keep up her sad act, and embrace playing the victim for now until she could escape her circumstances.

Michael tensed up as he saw her glum expression. He worried he had overstepped, said something wrong. She was his charge to protect, and he didn't want to have…

"I-I apologize, Erina, if I…"

Erina shook her head.

"No, don't worry. I just… my world was destroyed. One of the noble Space Marines, my angel, in Lady Viola's service saved me from that fate. I was to be killed with my mother who was a psyker, lumped in with such filth."

Michael could only imagine the pain she had felt. Not that he could discern her true feelings. Then again, there was truth to the hurt she felt, whether she chose to admit it or not. He couldn't imagine losing something as dear and precious as ones world. It was an event many in the Imperium had to face, and something so…

"Do you have anyone else? Others to…"

Erina only shook her head. There was no one else, but her master. And she knew she was simply a piece in his game, to a plan long set in motion. Whether that entity cared for her or not, she did not know and she didn't care. He saved her from hell and gave her a chance to begin anew. But now, she was on her own. Unless…

Michael cursed himself. He did it again. He forgot, that few of the citizenry ever left their worlds, and those that did rarely did so for pleasure. The Faceless Legion had the benefit of returning to one of their worlds, where they always had comrades, a family to find.

"I am sorry… Erina."

Erina shook her head, a soft smile on her face.

"I have come to terms with it… sir guardsmen, would you kindly remove your mask?"

Michael hadn't even noticed he still wore it. To think he hadn't realized such a thing. He wore it far too often. So he pulled it off, his long hair unfurling from underneath. Enough that it covered his green eyes that seemed so much more hopeful than any a guardsman should.

"Is that better?"

Erina was delighted to finally see him face to face. She had waited long enough… perhaps this was the time to ask.

"Sir Guardsman… please, might I… I have no family. No one left. Nowhere left to go."

Michael didn't quite understand what she hinted at.

"What do you mean?"

Erina found herself embarrassed, as she herself tried to form the words. It seemed so easy in her head.

"Would you allow me to… would you take me away from this? Back home with you?"

Michael hadn't expected that. In truth, he hadn't even considered such yet. But his family did want him to find someone soon, their bloodline needed to continue after all. He was the youngest of his family as well, and yet to wed. Aboard the exploritor ship, he only ever encountered the skiitari and other Faceless Legionaries. His chances of finding someone else in the future more than slim. It was customary though, for every successful campaign for the young legionaries to take spouses from among the populace before they returned home. He had saved this woman, Erina, and she was of the good sort. Still, he had no clue in how to answer. It was embarrassing really.

"W-What? I…"

Erina pleaded with him, with nothing but her eyes, hopeful that he would say yes. For while she could read his mind, she dared not attempt to alter anything. Lest she was even capable of such anymore, the limits to her current powers uncertain to her. Still, of all those aboard the ship, Michael was her best chance at accomplishing the dream she had as a young girl. To settle down and be content with life, unafraid. To be a mother who cared for her children, and have a home that was hers. Still, perhaps it was too soon to have asked such a thing.

"I… I am sorry for the sudden…"

Michael cleared his throat as he straightened himself up.

"N-no hold on. I…"

He sighed as he grabbed her hand.

"You do understand what that means, correct?"

Erina nodded.

"I promise to be a good wife sure to bring you plenty of children. Please just… say you'll take me away from this ship. I… I want to live a life away from all this conflict."

Michael was out of his area of comfort, but, he felt for her. And though he was but a guardsman, he knew his family would take good care of her. All who were welcomed into his family were, especially those from other worlds as it kept the lineage separate from the other major Legionary houses. And he too, he would do his best for her as well. This would lead him to the veteran legions eventually anyway. He clasped her hand gently.

"I'll take good care of you. I promise. I'll do it. I'll take you from here. I'll be sure to inform the commander."

Erina's heart leapt for joy. She would get what she was promised, a good life for the task she was tasked with achieving. As she was told, she was to make connections to the Faceless Legion, and from there, let fate take its course. This was what her master, the entity it was, asked of her, besides the grimy task of ridding the ship of that psyker Ceres. She had already performed that first promise. The second was a duty she would carry out gleefully, as she attained what she had hoped to attain.

In the other end of the hallway, two others sought to attain their goals. 02, the strange techpriest whom had come to assist with setting up the communications array, and Verdun. They stared at one another as they stood over the overhang which looked down into an engineering shaft. Wires and hoses wrapped along every corner and hung every so many feet. Lights blinking to indicate the thousands of various operating states all through the massive hole. A dozen ladders all along the walls that led down to various other overhangs below and above them. It was a quiet place, away from the mumbling of the pure fleshed. Only the symphony of machines as they worked all around them. 02 watched the blinking lights with glee.

"Ah… such beauty. The machine spirit of this vessel has a good caretaker."

Verdun was glad to have someone who outwardly appreciated him.

"Thank you, 02. Tell me, why do they call you such?"

02 twisted his frame to face Verdun.

"I am but one of a series, of a thousand, an individual among many. I have gone by many names, but I prefer that which was given to me upon my ascendance into machine-hood. The one the Omnisiah gave me himself. A number that I alone among my brethren can be."

This 02 was a devout follower of the Omnisiah it seemed. Still, for a techpriest to have yet so much flesh continued to press at the section of Verdun's brain which handled curiosity.

"And what of your flesh? Have you not desired to undergo further modification towards the mark of machine?"

02 only smiled, happy it appeared that Verdun had brought it up.

"Can you not see how I can smile? How I can express humanity? Yes, among us all, my fellow follower, we strive for the machine. But we uphold that first and foremost we are human. I simply calculated that which was unnecessary to be considered such, and rid myself of it. I keep an arm to remind me that while I am machine, I still have human limits. I keep my chest and my organs for I wish to feel as if I am still breathing of my own will. I keep my face, for it is through the face that others can see into my very soul, and so that I may look up to the glorious Omnisiah with both human and mechanical eyes."

Verdun calculated what he said. It was true, that the Mechanicus valued the humanity behind the machine, but few felt nearly the same as this one priest. The flesh was weak, and so it was replaced. Yet he keeps some to remind himself of his weakness as human. It was certainly a unique parameter of logic that this fellow techpriest followed, but one that Verdun did not disrespect. Though he still preferred his own body, barely flesh, and all the functions provided to him by the machine he was.

"You are an odd techpriest if I have ever seen one. Are all of the Dark Anvil like you?"

02 brought up his human hand to feel his cheek.

"No, we are all unique in our own ways, Verdun. Machines apart, created by ourselves into the form we have chosen. As that which the Omnisiah hath decreed. What of you, Verdun. I see that you are metal and wire, a construct held together by the might of the human mind and soul."

Verdun had to calculate his answer. Clearly, this was a question of his faith in some way. The Dark Anvil from his research, on what little he found, were very much enveloped on the idea of individuality.

"I am but one of many adepts, given the same with which to evolve myself. No more than was logically necessary."

02 tilted his neck with a mechanical whir.

"Oh? Is that so? Then why have you added a cage for your servoskulls within your body? Such is not standard. We are all unique, Verdun, and we all strive for unique ambitions."

The emphasis that was placed upon that last word was deliberate. Verdun reached a hand into his cloak as he pulled on one of his personal servoskulls. He held it out, as it came to life before 02.

"Yes, that is true. These servo skulls have served me faithfully. I have, of course, my own ambitions as well."

02 gently held out a hand as the servoskull rested atop it, its wires wrapping themselves around his fingers. He was delighted by the little spirit within, as it brought life to this sprite.

"My ambition, Verdun, is to create a world where all can revel in this. To see the wonders as we of the mechanicum. Some say, heretical, but I say, a world without xenos, one where humanity is once again allowed to progress without fear, is worthwhile. Do you calculate so?"

Verdun had to disagree to an extent. While their technology was great, few were careful or cautious enough to be trusted within even mere eyesight. Only those who were worthy deserved to have such power. But, a world in which progress was made without fear or heresy, was one all techpriests strived. Whether they admitted it or not, they were all kindred in their curiosity. They all desired to create, to modify and to learn.

"I believe only the worthy, 02, deserve the right. What of the Dark Anvil?"

02 let out a chuckle, something so odd to come from one so machine. At least, that it did not sound like static or the grating of metal against metal.

"Verdun, the Dark Anvil is something else. We do not seek to harbor the technology for our own sake, but that of ourselves and the people we protect. We choose who we care about, Verdun, and assemble together our own union. For without those of the flesh, those of the machine have nothing but rigid spirits to look forward to. We are cautious, above all, but what we create we use. What we discover, we research and understand, so that we may progress further. If only, a step at a time, in remembrance of the warnings provided to us in the past."

Verdun whirred as the archives containing the information known about the Dark Anvil processed through his mind. New variables added with every interaction.

"So why have you not shared your progress among the rest of the imperium?"

02 flicked his cheek.

"As you said Verdun, only the worthy should be allowed such technology. It would only be hoarded by others of the Mechanicum, blasphemers, who treat the religious sanctity of the machines and knowledge with greed. If this is the case, is it not logical we keep it for ourselves? Use it in the ways we see fit, rather than let it be wasted in the vaults of a different Magos seeking power?"

Verdun decided to enact a riskier question one that had a higher risk of insulting his companion. But, Verdun's curiosity got the better of him.

"Including STCs? Clean ones at that?"

02 nodded.

"Yes, for we use them for the purposes they were created. Lest we found one that was corrupted, we would all but be willing to share. That is the way of the mechanicum, is it not? Would you not revel in the discovery of such a thing as a pure STC?"

Verdun knew he would keep such a thing to himself as well, if he was able. As all techpriests would. Their first logical process would indicate them to keep it for themselves, or at the very least for that of their forgeworld. It was easy for their systems to justify such action. How wonderful it was to have such company that understood.

"As all techpriests would. So, will you continue this line of questions or will you cut to the immediate question which you were likely to ask?"

02 laughed again, uncannily, as he let the servo skull writhe along his arm.

"I had calculated that it would take another question before such an inquiry was asked. I suppose I missed some variables in the research that I have of you. Yes. We would welcome another techpriest of your caliber to join us at the Dark Anvil, openly. An entire forge dedicated to you, if it would so please you."

Verdun had waited for such a question. But he preferred to maintain a cautious stance, until the inevitability was that he would attain what he desired.

"Ah, I see. But what of me have you seen that suggests my caliber as a techpriest? You have yet to see me accomplish more than assisting you in the assembly of such a simple device as a communications array."

02 stepped back with his many legs, his arms waved up in the air.

"Because of this, Verdun. You have taken excellent care of this ship as not but a single techpriest, and the machine spirit has likened you so much that it is to your whim. Done in the service of an Inquisitor for years alone, with naught but the servoskulls and simple servitors at your side. That is why."

Verdun calculated the chances of his next question. Given 02's enthusiasm it appeared to him that they were certain of his willingness to enter. Given Violas recent change of service, there were few places left for him to go. 02 was clearly sent here with a goal of his recruitment, if at least a secondary goal. The Dark Anvil was limited to a single sector composing of only a dozen planets, but secluded enough from the rest of the Imperium that he would be less restricted to follow his whims. Though the reclusive attitude of the Dark Anvil when compared to other Mechanicum forces proved a barrier of challenge he would need overcome. Yet, he already showed good faith in his intended assistance in talks with Viola by nearly undermining her authority before the Magos. That she rebounded with high lord Reginald's authority, was unexpected, but he was sure that the Magos saw his initiative. If he got what he desired, a role befitting his genius, he would be content. This was what he had hoped to attain since he listened in on the conversations between Reginald and the Magos, and his disclosure of the Imperial Knight STCs which were held aboard his ship. For while his brethren created servitors and mere war machines, he would create _titans_.

"It would please me greatly, but, I wish to choose where I work."

02's auspex eye narrowed in as it watched Verdun.

"And that would be?"

"I wish to run the titan forges which produce the Imperial Knights."


	14. Chapter 14

**Aboard the Hulk, another's ambition was close at hand. **The Magos, Emile, Eli and the remaining Stormtroopers had finally come to the sanctum where all of the Mechanicus forces were held up. Greeted by Techpriest Argo with a small squad of Skiitari, who bowed before his Magos.

"It is good to see you unharmed, Magos. We have kept this place protected, from all the foul creatures which have dared come."

The Magos ignored him, enamored by the presence of his prize, not but several yards away. He was lucky that the emotion suppressants had faded not long before they arrived her, so he could further witness this sight. The open doorway into the ancient relic of human history right before him. Called to him. He shifted his servo-hands to the side as they all stepped aside. Everyone watched as the Magos simply moved his way through the crowd, and up to the entrance of the Dark Ship. It brought fire to his soul, and the sight was just as beautiful as it was promised to him. That presence that had told him of this ship did not do justice to the very beauty of it. He was all but delighted to take his first steps within, the first among many in thousands and thousands of years. No sooner had his frame entered that he noticed a small sprite, far off down the hall. Below a tree, as it watched him. What was this curious thing he saw before him?

The doors shuttered, as they began to tremble once more. But the Magos did not panic, no, none of them did. Emile and Eli were the closest to being, but even then they felt that this was something entirely on the Magos hands. It was a sign that he and he alone was allowed within its halls. Though it made Emile warry of the future, but be had no time to worry himself as Viola contacted him again through his vox.

"So you have arrived?"

Emile looked over the procession of the Mechanicus forces as they continued to establish defensive perimeters.

"Yes. The Magos arrived unimpeded."

"I am assuming he entered."

Emile looked to the door that closed.

"Yes. And it had closed behind him."

Viola was slightly irked by this turn of events.

"We need to contact him as soon as possible. We have a plan that may work, but it will require his cooperation. Unfortunately… it seems contacting him has become more difficult now."

Emile took a deep breath as he thought of the situation.

"Well then, I am certain he will attempt to reestablish communications as soon as possible. Though as a member of the Mehanicus we cannot be certain what he is up to within."

Viola sighed.

"Hopefully he doesn't get too distracted."

Emile suddenly thought of Commander Richell and the others. He had hoped to check in on them, and this was as good a chance as ever.

"Viola… might I ask about Commander Richell?"

There was nothing but an uneasy silence for several moments. Something that concerned Emile, but he was set at ease when she finally replied.

"They are still alive. Commander Urgo of the Faceless legion is currently helping them navigate the Hulk to return to the sanctum. Of their chances I do not believe they have much, but they have one."

"Thank you, Viola."

"They are merely worthwhile assets Emile…"

Emile was happy to hear that things were well.

"Of course."

Viola brought the conversation back to business.

"Then now that is out of the way… Listen well, for this is the plan we have in mind…"

As soon as the doors had shut behind the Magos, he found himself beset by many small sprites. Their souls clear to any of the Omnisiah, burning vibrantly around their metal form. Machines, no taller than an average human foot in length, made of a single elongated center piece, and a round head that bobbed over it. Several legs protruded from its main frame that pulled them along the ground at unforeseen speeds. Untold mechanisms within that contained sensors that allowed it to see. Several managing to float, and much to the Magos delight he knew not why. He pulled one of the sprites from the air as he held it cherished in his hands before he crushed it, its pieces falling beneath his hands. Using a subset of his consciousness he devoted space to analyze its components and see if he could decipher its mysteries. His many auspexes taking thousands of micro pictures of each peice. He only mused in how this would have been heresy anywhere else.

Those sprites around him seemed not to care about their brethren's demise. He felt it, they had some semblance of the machine spirits within, but these were un-nurtured, childlike. Not but the level of servitors.

All of his functions stopped for just a moment as he heard a voice.

"It has been such a long time since a human came aboard this ship. I have waited for so long... I had even opened the doors for the others outside, but none came in before you. Are they scared? You are human? Aren't you? Beneath all that metal and machine you have grafted upon yourself?"

The Magos was struck by a mix of joy and uncertainty as he looked about the room. There was a strong machine spirit here. But where was it?

"Yes, I am a Magos of the Dark Anvil. Where are you, oh noble machine spirit?"

The voice seemed to echo all around him.

"Machine spirit? What is that? In all of my records I cannot find the term. I am Angel, the administrative A.I of this ship. The WorldPortal."

An A.I? The Magos had only ever heard of such things in myth and legend. Such a rare and precious specimen, and he found it. Though this was clearly a machine spirit, even now he felt its presence. Of the AI he was told of the past… they had no souls. This was something new. How long had it been here? How did it speak in a language which he could understand? Did it know of the one who sent him here?

"Tell me, Angel, how long have you been here?"

The A.I was silent for a moment as it no doubt calculated its response.

"I… I do not know. It is odd. It seems I was not programmed to know. Or perhaps, the clock has simply run over enough times to be unregistered anymore."

The Magos shifted himself forward along the hall, towards the nearest tree. This biological specimen long lost to time, preserved here. With such care it seemed that it was beyond natural. The extensive systems around it which supported its life beyond the Magos understanding. It had lived long past its normal lifespan.

Angel suddenly asked a surprising question.

"Tell me, why did everyone disappear? Where had you humans gone? It has been so lonely here… with nothing but the maintenance bots. The aliens outside all but hostile. Where is captain !#$I #$? Where is !# !#? Where did they go? I have preserved the ship dutifully in their absence."

The Magos could feel the deep sadness which came from Angel. Oh, the poor thing. How it had been left here all these years! The Magos would ensure it would need never be alone again. He knew Angel must have known so much, the knowledge it contained enough to progress the Dark Anvil by immeasurable amounts. Yet he did not jump to conclusions, for he knew not its intentions. And of whom it spoke, he could not decipher the static that was once names, their record likely long lost to time. But given the age of the hulk, he could assume they were no longer here.

"I am afraid they are most likely dead, given the time that has passed. I am sorry, Angel."

"Oh… that is unfortunate. Then, might I ask something else?"

The Magos watched as the sprites floated around him, careless as children.

"Yes."

Angel's response was swift, as if impatient.

"Why do I have emotions? I am sure that I was not programmed to feel such things. That I was even capable. I was not programmed to be more than an input system. One which accepted commands and responded with actions. But now…there is something. I cannot describe it. I feel. Is there something wrong with me? Must I be taken off line and replaced?"

The Magos calculated the known variables. It was possible, perhaps, that this A.I was once nothing but a program. Over time, it likely attained a soul, a gift from the Omnisiah. Left here alone, preserved through time and space, given sentience. It was but a child, one that the Magos could full and well nurture himself. Such a thing would be irreplaceable.

"No, dear machine spirit. Dear Angel. There is nothing wrong with you. You have a soul."

The response that Angel gave was one that hinted at an uncertainty of the validity of the Magos presumptions. It likely had not the context to understand.

"A soul? A machine cannot develop such things."

The Magos was saddened by the naivety of this poor spirit.

"Souls are very real, Angel. Even the Machines are able to contain such a holy gift, as you. This is why you may feel. Why you may no doubt perform functions far beyond what you initially believed was possible. Why you can talk to me in such a manner as this. It is a gift of the Omnisiah."

"I am afraid I do not have any records of this… Omnisiah which you speak."

This ship was old indeed. No matter, in time the Magos would provide all the answers that this Spirit would need.

"In time I shall explain. There is much I wish to tell you, and I am sure there is much that I can learn from you. Would you like me to provide you with company, Angel? Ease this loneliness which you feel?"

The AI didn't immediately respond. Instead, a blue light formed before the Magos. From where it came he knew not, only that it did. And from that light a hologram formed, of a small child. It held out its hand.

"It has been so long since I have had company. Will you?"

The Magos followed through on Angel's gesture and held out one of his servo arms. Amazingly, the hologram was physical enough to touch. His sensors picking up a strange liquid in the air around it, which moved in unison as if alive. Was this what held it together? So much to learn!

"May you show me to the command center of this ship, Angel?

Angel's hologram nodded, joyous in its expression.

"It would delight me. May you tell me of what the world is like outside?"

The Magos had nearly forgotten all about those outside the ships doors. Ah, he was in a divine place. This A.I, Angel, was all but already worth his trip here, all the resources he had put into this operation. Now all he needed to do was get it out of the hulk. But, there was one item here that was promised. The very thing he had come for, an STC. But this STC was not like the others. No, it was special, unique. Something unique to this place and this time.

"I shall. But first, may I ask you something Angel? Do you happen to have an STC aboard this ship? One marked by the Dimension Program?"

The hologram tilted its head, its eyes flashed with numbers and code before it replied.

"Yes."

* * *

None outside knew what transpired within with the Magos. Though many desired to know what was within, none had the chance to ponder. No, they were focused on something much more present. The echoing cries of the Tyranid swarm approached quickly through the corridors and vents that led into the sanctum. The Magos forces were quick to establish a perimeter and seal off as many vents and corridors as possible, but it was only a limited measure that wouldn't hold off forever. Yet they would stand in the face of these terrible xenos.

Emile and Eli stood beside techpriest Argo, right in front of the massive door that led into the Dark Age ship. He had shown not nearly as much resistance to their presence now that they were of vital use. Eli found himself foolishly distracted however, as he thought of those who were lost. From the cries and the screams of the aggressive monsters around them, he knew it was likely they were already gone. But it bothered him regardless. He knew he had to remain focused, but he could not. Emile seemed to simply push on, as if none of this phased him. It was both intimidating and for the first time, distant. While Eli had known Emile for such a long time, fought side by side with him and gone to the brink with him by his side, recent events had caused something. What it was he was uncertain, but he certainly saw Emile differently. A wise mentor, who taught him much, but now also his superior. Someone far more experienced than he, who had lived through battles beyond even his scope. It unsettled him and yet he knew not why. He was a Space Marine, but that did not erase his humanity. He refused to believe that, and he knew Emile felt the same. But they were still different, apart from all the others, treated and spoken to different, and seen not as men, but as angels of a divine being. All Space Marine chapters, even the Oath Marines numbed the feelings of their members. He himself had gone through such augments, survived the process to become a scout and persevered into a tactical squad. Yet he was still young, and recently such was painfully apparent. He would not harbor these thoughts no longer. He needed to talk with him.

He opened a private vox to Emile.

"Emile… can we talk?"

Emile didn't look toward him, his gaze focused on the area ahead of them. Still he replied.

"Of course, Eli."

Eli shifted the plasma gun that the Magos had given him awkwardly in his hands, still unused to the weapon.

"Am I naïve, Emile?"

Emile was silent as he pondered his response. He knew that his young brother had much to learn. But he also knew that their time away from the chapter had on effect on the both of them. Even him, a veteran who had seen wars on scales that Eli was yet even to fathom. The mental locks that held their resolve eroded, and they became individual. Something that was not despised within his chapter, but even the Oath Marines with their willingness to communicate and act non-violently, to help preserve a worthy Imperium, were steeped in tradition and expectation. It kept them a unified force, one which was always ready to act not in their own interest but in the interest of their chapter and the Imperium. The members limited in their capacity to emote and sympathize with the rest of humanity. Such took maintenance, something that was easily achieved within the chapters fold, but not away from them. And not for so long, surrounded by regular humans.

Both he and Eli began to act on their own ambitions now that they were away for so long. Something he tried to ignore, but that he knew he could not. He had hoped that practicing their traditions every day would stem such deviation, but it only worked so much. He realized that the moment he began to see Viola as anything more than a commanding officer, an Inquisitor, a simple human in the Imperium. When he started to see her as a daughter. Eli was good hearted, far too much for this wretched universe which demanded so much for simple survival. Perhaps it was impossible to even return to their chapter after this. Whether this was a good or bad thing, he would not decide. It was the way that it was, and here they were.

"Eli… you are yet young. A good heart rests within that chest of yours, beneath these suits of armor, within the human that you are. Such is dangerous upon the battlefield, for any hesitation any distraction is one which will lead to your demise. But you have grown well. You are my brother after all, and the one who has stood beside me all these years. I am glad to have you here besides me now, if this is to be our last day together, our last battle."

Eli was comforted by Emile's words. Despite whatever was between them, they were still brothers in arms, Space Marines of the Oath marines dedicated to each other and their mission. Perhaps that was simply enough. He would focus now, on the coming battle ahead.

"Thank you, Emile."

It was no sooner that the first of the swarm began to pour out of the corridors and busted through vents along the sides of the sanctum. All of them were of the same type that Emile and Eli had previously encountered, their long scythes glistening in the light. Their bodies blurred by the movement of hundreds, as they raced side by side and over one another. All of the defending forces stood firm, as they were trained to do. Even in the face of this. The Imperial Guard of the Faceless Legion were the first to intercept, barricaded behind whatever they found to create a barrier. Las guns and flamethrowers lit up the entire area, the cries of battle upon them. The Mechanicus Dunecrawlers walked behind the line of guardsmen and fired one at a time in sequence, hot lasers slicing through the horde, hundreds at a time. The Skiitari behind them using their galavanch rifles to pick off those which managed to wonder too closely. The Skorpius disintegrators launching volleys of plasma across the sanctum and into the very heart of the swarm, leaving entire craters in its wake. The Duneriders at the back, filled with Skiitari vanguard, ready to enter the battle when needed.

Emile and Eli however only stood, as they waited for their time to come. They were part of the last line of defense, lest the swarm managed to grow closer. Techpriest Argo between them as he fidgeted, his hands clenched tightly over two arch pistols, as he stared off into the carnage. He mumbled calculations to himself that only he understood, shaking as he watched with such intensity that nothing would phase him.

That neither of them did anything, despite the scene before them unnerved Eli. He didn't want to simply wait, while the battle unfolded before them.

"Are we to stand here and do nothing?"

Emile gripped his bolter, checking to see he was fully loaded.

"Until the time is right."

The screams of several guardsmen cried out as they were pulled into the swarm, though the las fire didn't stop, and the promethium continued to pour out ahead of them.

"Emile…"

Emile held up his bolter as he shot the flying Tyranid which crawled from the vent above them and started to descend upon them.

"As I said, the correct time."

* * *

Elsewhere in the winding corridors of the ship, all was quiet. Save for the baited breathes of Commander Richell and her remaining forces. Ervin managed to walk, though he found himself struggle to adapt to the new legs he was provided. That he had to carry the vox with him made it all the more complicated. That he was alive at all was a wonder, but he knew he had lost a lot of blood, and without resources… no. He wouldn't dare think of it. For the others here, he would push on. For Richell.

Lt. Jimmy tapped the side of his flamethrower as he walked besides the Stormtroopers. The two mindless drones who stood beside him. They always freaked him out, being where they came from and all, the special boys with all the big guns and armor. But now he didn't seem to give a grog's ass. They packed the largest weapons aside from himself and he felt, somehow, comforted by them.

Richell was at the front, as all commanders should. She led her forces from the front, guided by the lights provided by the Stormtroopers behind her. But it did not make her nerves settle, for it was too quiet for her liking, and she despised it. The tyranids were close, no, all around them. Yet they didn't hear a sound.

Ervin held the vox to his chest, their one lifeline out of this hell. Commander Urgo reported into them repeatedly, providing directions. Though for all they knew, where they were headed was uncertain, and specifics weren't often. Whether this was a good thing was yet to be seen. The silence among them not for want of conversation, for they all feared what hid in the dark. They all wanted to speak, to share in discussion and ignore what was around them, but they would sooner live longer than bring attention to themselves.

Commander Urgo spoke up again through the vox to Ervin.

"Down the next corridor head right. Then keep straight until further orders."

As quietly as he could Ervin replied.

"Y-Yes sir."

Richell looked back at him having noticed. He waved his hand to the right and she understood as she made her way against the wall. Everyone else followed, sure to keep each other in sight. The darkness slowly but surely creeping in on them, as Lt. Jimmy noticed a shift in the dark ahead. It was all that it took for him to have a momentary snap. He gripped his flamer tightly as he pressed ahead, past Richell who gave him a glare to stand down, and ignited the area ahead of them in promethium. The blaze was quick and it was hot, the distinct squeak of bending metal as a side beam lurched to the side. A whole section of the roof coming down after, blocking their path forward. Lt. Jimmy took several loud breaths. Something was there! He knew it was… there was something there!

Richell grabbed him by the front of his uniforms collar and pulled him to her. She didn't say a word but the look she gave him was all he needed to see to understand. His hands shook as he looked at the rubble before him. It was… there was something right? Right? He didn't just make it up...

Richell pushed him away as she pointed furiously to the side. This whole situation was damned! Lt. Jimmy had served her faithfully through all sorts of shit before, but never had things been this dire. Not with him anyway. He thought that they would have the Space Marines by their side on this mission, but here they were, a single guardsman, two mindless automatons, a broken voidsman and a commander who tried to hold it all together. His friend was already offed, and now none of them even said a damn word. Blast it all!

"Enough… feck it! Were all dead anyway… Why keep this charade alive any longer?"

Richell let out a sigh, and shook her head in disapproval.

"Don't lose your nerve on me now, Lieutenant."

Lt. Jimmy rolled his eyes. He respected her, but denying the inevitable was a fool's errand. They were abandoned and forgotten about. Whoever this Commander Urgo was, they had no idea if he was simply humoring them to give them hope before they died. Likely violently.

"Commander, listen to me. There is no point to it. Were in a hulk for Emperors sake! Alone and without any support. We are doomed."

Richell just about reached for her boltgun, strapped at her side. But she hesitated.

"Jimmy, you and I have gone through serious straights before. This is no different. And don't you dare take the Emperors name in vain."

Lt. Jimmy shook his head, glum as he looked at the debris he caused to fall.

"Commander, why don't you follow through with your threats for once and kill me. Least then I don't have to deal with this shit anymore. Before I get stabbed through the neck or anywhere else and bleed to death by a wretched, scythe handed beastie!"

Ervin gritted his teeth. He didn't intend to die here. He was just a voidsman, and he came here because he was forced, thought to be the first to die… how could an actual guardsman say anything like this? How could he so easily accept dying!

"Enough!"

Both Richell and Lt. Jimmy looked at him.

Ervin walked up to Lt. Jimmy and threw a punch, something that Lt. Jimmy was quick to catch. But Ervin didn't shy away, he pressed ahead until he was face to face.

"I came here thinking I was already dead. That I was going to die, but you all looked down on me. I was out of my wits, and I was ready to keel over. But I decided that I wanted to live, and I followed through. Even when I was about to die I… I didn't want to die. I didn't think I would get the chance to move let alone go anywhere ever again. But I still didn't want to die! Even when I asked for Richell to put me out, I didn't want to die! Commander Richell gave me a reason to push on, and she hasn't complained once. I look up to her and I see why all of her soldiers follow her. Yet you, when you still can walk with your own two fecking legs, with all of your experience in the face of horrors I have never seen before, when we still have a chance to survive, you say you want to die!"

Lt. Jimmy didn't know that Ervin had the balls to stand up to him. He… he did look down on him before. He was even ready to laugh at him, let him die and forget, but now…

He brought up his fist as if to strike Ervin, but he couldn't. He shoved him away and stepped back. He had to say something. He couldn't admit that he was acting the way that Ervin did the first time he saw him.

"You… that… I…"

He turned away, unable to form the words. Looks like he didn't have anything to say. And thus they all stayed in silence once more as they looked around at one another. Commander Richell both surprised and even more respectful of Ervin. For how little they knew one another, he had come a long way. They had already been here for… she didn't know how long. It felt like ages and ages, but he stayed strong. Despite the timid and shaky fear he held beneath. To think she thought he would die right away, ashamed of him for being part of this mission. Now she respected him as much as she respected any of her soldiers. As for Lt. Jimmy though… she was shocked by his cowardice. Even after all that he had followed her into before, and all the missions she trusted him with.

They were all shocked back to the moment as they heard a scratching sound from somewhere behind them. The Stormtroopers who had stayed silent this entire time turned to face the threat, somewhat more comfortable now that they returned to their comfort zone of war. Not the petty squabbles of others.

Commander Urgo voxed back in, urgent in his voice.

"What had happened? Why did you stop?"

Ervin held onto the vox tightly, looking for whatever it was that hunted them.

"We had a setback…"

Commander Urgo didn't wait to hear anything else.

"Very well then, there is another corridor a small ways from where you came. You will need to take that. And then follow it until you reach the next split. From there, I will contact you again. Be wary of the tyranid presence. Combat has already begun in the sanctum. If you hope to make it out, you need to get back quickly while the defenders still hold ground. Best of luck."

Richell looked over to him.

"What did Commander Urgo say?"

Ervin almost didn't want to tell her, but he had to.

"Well…"


	15. Chapter 15

**For the Magos, none of what transpired outside bothered him.** He was far too enamored, like the young child he was once, nearly two hundred years ago now. Such sights, such pleasures had escaped him for so long. And yet his mechanical frame for the first time in such a long time limited him, for he could not express the joy that fluttered in his robotic heart, nor could he show this Angel the depth of the excitement he held. But that was no matter, this was his prize. What he was promised.

They walked along the empty hallways of the ship, maintained to perfection with not a sign of disrepair. Angel had done exactly as it said, and maintained the entire ship for all this time. A time capsule of a bygone era that most would only ponder upon and see the barest of glimpses. But not him. Ha! Rue those fools who sent him here, for they would never see such sights as he! For they would never accomplish the things which he would do. Ah, and the worst of it was, they would never know. The Magos was far too careful to allow such secrets to get out. All of the ship was a spectacle, something fit for the nobles and the elites of worlds, yet this was nothing more than a research vessel in its time. Every corridor lined with decorum and comforts removed from the modern age, and mechanisms that piqued his interest to no end.

Angel's holographic form looked up at him.

"Are you pleased with my care of the ship?"

The Magos gave the spirit a nod.

"You have done well, Angel. This place has been preserved beyond my wildest dreams. I am sure those who you knew would be proud."

The hologram of Angel managed to smile.

"That makes me… happy. Is that what this feeling is?"

The Magos looked on down the corridor before them.

"Yes. Yes it is, Angel."

Angel fluttered about, ecstatic as a child as they walked around the Magos with their illusory arms held about.

"Yay! I haven't gotten praise in so long…"

The Magos, in such sort time with this long lost machine spirit, with Angel, endeared him so. He would be sure to raise it carefully, away from the harshness of the universe as it was. Truly he had found something, someone whom he desired to care for. A machine spirit which tugged at his very heart, and he would be sure to take this gift with the respect it deserved.

"I hope for that to change, Angel. You are a spirit with such a pure essence, one so rare among those I know. Now, may I ask how much further it is to the command deck?"

Angel nodded as he teleported his hologram body ahead in the corridor.

"It's not that much further. If we follow this corridor we will come to it in no time at all."

The Magos would have liked to take his time, explore every part of the ship, but he did have a reminder placed in his mind, of those outside. He still had to care for their wellbeing. He would have time, after all, when this was over and the ship was extracted from the abominable hulk. So he followed along, careful that his massive frame touched nothing but the ground. Angels hologram ahead of him as it cheerfully walked along, popping in and out as it teleported here and there. Eventually they reached the end of the hallway, where a single large door was before them. The door itself simple and flat, with no decoration of any kind. Angel pointed to it.

"See, this is the command deck. Shall we enter? I haven't had anyone aboard here in forever."

The Magos gave a nod, increasingly frustrated by his incapability to emote his emotions so. For never had he wished to so dearly, than in the presence of Angel. Ah, but he had not foreseen this before. He would find a way to augment himself later to better implement his expression.

"Of course…"

His attention was pulled away as he eyed the strange door on the wall beside the entrance to the command deck. It was the only door that had any semblance of restriction, and this restriction was certainly crude and against all that he had seen prior. Long flat pieces of metal were bolted in front of the door, with writing that he had yet to decipher in-graved into it. What was this? He could spare some time, he calculated, to inspect what had now come to his attention.

"Angel… what is this door that has been so crudely barricaded?"

Angel's hologram looked over at it, and the expression it gave was sad. Something troubled the poor machine spirit. Angel teleported his form over to the door as it touched the metal that barricaded it.

"I… I do not know. The captain, !#!# !#, he had ordered me not to enter this room. Currently I am incapable of doing so, and I have no way of knowing what is inside."

The Mago's interest skyrocketed. What would have been hidden so poorly behind this door?

"Is it possible that I may enter?"

Angel tilted its head.

"Afraid that I cannot disobey my captain's orders…"

The captain of this vessel, what had happened? The ship was sealed upon their arrival. Only he had entered in all these years, and the tyranids outside had not found their way in either. There were no bodies, and Angels confusion of where this Captain showed that something strange had happened. But what?

"Angel, what happened to the Captain? Did he leave?"

Angel nodded its head.

"Yes. Yes he did. He and the rest of the crew left, before… I cannot seem to recall any memory files depicting what had transpired after they had left. The captain only promised that he and # !#! would return. But they had not. And you said that such time has passed that they are likely dead."

The Magos moved himself so that he was besides the hologram.

"I am so sorry, little Angel. For you are but a child, your spirit young and un-nurtured, you were abandoned here to this fate. Is it not time to have a new captain?"

Angel seemed perplexed as its eyes flashed with a series of numbers and code. When it had finished its processing of the question Angel replied.

"I do not wish to be left alone any longer. I want to have crew aboard this ship again. A captain who is here. The previous captain has run his term and if he is currently deceased, this ship is left without a running captain. This is in violation of the rules that were provided to me upon my creation. So would you be willing to accept the role?"

The Magos was lucky for this chance. As naturally as his mechanical form could handle, he bowed his back, a servo arm to his chest.

"I would be more than glad for such an honor."

Angel's eyes flashed again.

"Then it is done, you have been registered, as the new running captain of this ship. What is your first official command?"

The Magos looked at the door. Ah curse the curiosity of all the mechanicus!

"Well… why don't we see what is behind this door that you were told to ignore?"

Angel gave a nod.

"Right away!"

From above several of the sprites from before fluttered down and began to eat away at the metal which covered the door. Within moments they fell to the ground with a clank, only to be dragged away by the sprites into several small chutes along the bottom of the wall. Fascinating. The Magos would have to learn more about these machines in the future. But for now…

Angel opened the door, the two sliding mechanisms rusty with age. They puttered for a few seconds before they managed to slide open, revealing a large room, dark and with no light. Likely to avoid Angel's sensors, but they could not avoid the Magos Auspex. Though it was blurry, through the dark he made out the appearance of several dozen pod like chambers, in rows along the length of the room. Two individual pods at the front, a podium with a terminal between them.

"What was this room before?"

Angel walked into the room, the hologram emitting a faint blue light which lightly brightened the space around him.

"I… cannot recall. I feel those memories were erased."

The Magos moved towards the podium into the darkness of the room and looked at the screen above it. Tis was a terminal it seemed. It was in a passive mode, not displaying any visual data, but the mechanisms were all working. His auspex allowed him to see that, the electric currents of all the wires and the mechanisms easy for him to detect.

"Can you turn on the lights to this room, Angel? And restore power to this terminal?"

Angel gave him a nod as it blinked out for a few moments. The lights came on after, revealing the entire room in its warmth. The terminal also booted back up, a black screen displayed with a single green line which ran the length of its center. It was preparing itself to display the visual data. Though what the Magos saw had only furthered his interest in the story of this ship. In all of the pods were children, of various ages, but none older than ten. Their bodies somehow preserved perfectly, not having aged a single day. Not even the Magos had an inkling of the technology which was used to accomplish this.

"What are these…"

He turned to look at the terminal as it finalized its loading and revealed a large list. Followed by heartbeats and vital signs. Though the Magos could not understand what the language said, he understood what it was for. This was used to maintain the children, and amazingly they were all alive. Suspended in time, for they had not aged, they had not changed at all. They were living remnants of a bygone era. All of the biometrics seemingly perfect, as if they were only recently placed within. Such technology made the Magos mind fill with possibilities.

He looked back to Angel who pressed their hand onto the glass of one of the pods. It was of a young girl, dressed in a red dress, her hair a reddish brown, likely eight or nine years of age. Her hands clasped together as if in prayer. Such a strange circumstance…

Angel spoke as it tapped the glass.

"* *#%*? !#*# ! Is that you? Why are you here…?"

The Magos saw how this sight made Angel unsettled, and he surmised that it likely had no recollection of these machines or their purpose. Unfortunate, as it would have been useful lest he wish to replicate the technology, but it was as it was. He did not wish to see Angel so saddened however, for it was difficult to understand how a machine spirit felt, often its expression not allowed in such forms as Angels holograms. Another thing for him to consider later, which would greatly assist in the adaptation of his other ships.

"What is it, Angel? Do you recognize these children?"

Angel turned to him.

"Yes. They were members aboard the ship before… currently I am unaware of what transpired. They had disappeared while aboard the ship one day. But that was before the crew had left. After that… my memory had been deleted of any further events. But I do recall them clearly, fondly. I was tasked with watching over them often…"

The Magos moved over to the pod with the girl. Why were children here? Why not adults? Or those of more value? It was a strange circumstance he could not begin to decipher with the few variables he was provided.

Angel tugged on his robe.

"I cannot recall why they are here. But… there is a file that I cannot decipher within my programming. It is a virtual file which transposes a recreation of events aboard the ship, something that happens routinely to record the crew members. Though this file is sealed away from me, and I cannot comprehend it. Perhaps you are able? I am able to translate anything that is said through a sub section of my consciousness, for you to understand any audio files that are found. I managed to learn and add your language into my database from those outside the ship. Unfortunately, I am unable to comprehend these files still, but I am sure that you will be able there is likely to be glitches in such an old file…"

The Magos looked over all of the pods. Such a recreation of events long ago was possible? This certainly was a mystery. The forces outside could hold on for a while longer while he investigated this. Perhaps it would change everything.

"Very well, Angel."

Angel's hologram disappeared, and then the room was lit up with a faint blue light. Holographic figures filled the room, adults in uniforms that were all but alien to him. A single man who stood apart from them all, who had medals that adorned his chest and a large hat that jutted out ahead of him. The Magos assumed this was the previous captain. He seemed disparaged, angry, as he stood beside the terminal.

"A-A-A-A-Alright, w-w-w-we have to ge-get t-t-t-t-this done. A-A-A-A-As quickly as possible."

The Magos grunted through his vox. The quality of the audio was not as great as he had hoped.

From the door several more figures appeared, as they dragged the children with them. All of whom whined and tried to get away. The figures did not seem to care, and one by one they put the children into the pods, injecting them with something beforehand. The same young girl who was in the pod beside him, broke away from the man who held her. She looked to the captain, her hands clenched.

"W-W-Why hhhhhhhhave… aaaaaarerere you doing this? Please Cap-Cap-Captain! I-I-I Thought you w-w-were…"

The captain merely turned away as two others grabbed the girl and dragged her to the pod. The holograms passing over the Magos, unaware of his presence. They pushed her onto the pod as one of them forcefully grabbed her arm and pulled it to them. Then they injected her with a large syringe, cautious in its execution despite their clear dismissal of her. She only clamped her hands together afterwards, as if in prayer, quiet and defeated.

"I… I p-p-p-pray fo-fo-for you Captain…"

The hologram version of the glass closing in over her. Everything laying over the reality exactly as it was. The captain then slammed his hand onto the terminal, another held to his face as he cried. The hologram so specific that even his tears were detailed, as they fell one by one to the floor. Fascinating.

The Magos moved himself to study the man, only to be surprised by the voice of someone behind him. He rotated his head to see a woman storm into the room, dressed in a long garb, her hair long and tied behind her back. She waved her arms wildly as she looked at the Captain, the Magos stood between the two projected figures.

The woman angrily yelled for all in the room to hear. Everyone's attention pulled to her.

"Wha… doing?! C-Cant you seeeeeeeeeee that…. our chance to…. you fool!"

The Captain slammed his hand onto the terminal again as he walked toward the woman and shoved her.

"Y-y-y-y-ou l-l-l-lied to me-e-e-e-e-e-e! T-t-t-t-o this crew! T-To… how could you?"

The woman stood up again, brushed off her garb and ran a hand through her hair.

"T-T-They a-a-a-a-a-are o-o-o-o-orphans! T-T-Their lllllllllives d-don't ma-ma-matter! M-M-My ex-ex-experiments aaaaarrere m-m-m-more important! B-B-Besides, w-w-w-w-we gave them a-a-a-a co-co-comfy little life here… n-n-now they pay for it."

The captain looked over the pods.

"T-T-The o-o-o-nly thing t-t-t-t-that…you l-l-lying… you w-w-w-w-want to give them t-t-t-t-to that cult! S-S-S-So you c-c-c-can look over those m-m-m-m-m-m-onsters th-th-they have! A-A-All their nonsense about ch-ch-chaos…"

The woman seemed surprised as she stepped back.

"I-I-I don't ne-ne-need your approval. Y-Y-You work for me! Th-This is a-a-a-a-a-a research ve-ve-ve-vessel. W-W-W-We will g-g-g-g-g-get h-h-h-h-h-humanit-t-t-t-ty t-t-t-t-to a-a-ascend! T-T-This is in the name of… f-f-for all of us!"

The Captain shook his head.

"Y-Y-Y-You foolish bitch! Cold, heartless! You think that whatever the hell that cult wants these children for is good? Do you think that they are the 'ascension' desired for humanity? I thought you were taking these children in to help cure their illnesses, not trade them off like cattle for demons! Did you think I wouldn't figure out?"

Demons? The Magos tried to correlate this data with what he knew. That the audio had smoothed out, was good. Had this been before the calamity that resulted in the dark age of Technology? Were the Daemons as active then? He was not sure, but that this woman of the past mentioned anything of demons, deeply unsettled him.

The woman scowled.

"Demons? Pah! Those are just failures! Those that weren't ready for such ascension! I can uncover the secrets of that place! These kids have illnesses that the cult wants, and I could care less. In the end, all of humanity will get the better of it, when I unlock the mysteries of that other world. There are greater beings out there, examples of what we can be! Those 'monsters' are linked to that place and them, and if I can just get my hands on one… just one…"

She shook her head, and instead of finishing her thought, stepped up to the Captain and shoved her face in front of his.

"You listen to me, Captain. I am above you, and we are going to hand those children over. I don't even understand why you put them in those pods, my creations! It's a waste!"

The Captain stood firmly, the Magos noting that he grasped a knife held at his side.

"The only good things to have ever come from you. You've gone mad! I am making sure that all of this research you've done, all the things you did behind my back, and what you did to $ #$. He was a young boy, and you… you mutated him with that blood, and then dissected him."

The Woman clenched his shoulders.

"For humanity! Good god! You are dense! You pathetic, weak hearted man! As long as I am here…"

She couldn't finish her statement, the captain pulled his knife and stabbed her through her stomach.

"That is why everything is disappearing. Even you."

He didn't stop there, and continued to stab her over and over until the life left her eyes and she fell limp to the floor, the blood even simulated as it poured along the floor. All the others who stood around the room only continued to stare. The Magos started to understand the circumstance that occurred on this ship.

The Captain stumbled ahead, dropping the knife as he placed a bloody hand on the girls pod.

"I am sorry… !# ! This had to be done. We are all going to leave here, and I will delete everything aboard this ship which even links to that woman's research. Everything. Then… Then… this ship will jump somewhere else. I don't know where, but I pray that good people find you. As for us. We will atone for our sins."

He looked up, the others stood around him. The Magos within the circle right beside the Captain. The Captain pushed himself away from the pod and then looked at the crewmen.

"Let us atone."

The simulation then ended, all of the holograms disappearing and the Magos left alone again. The experience one that the Magos had not expected. He was unsettled by some of it, but relieved of the Captains removal of the heretical researcher. This explained everything, why this ship was within a hulk, likely tossed through time and merged with others in the warp. The missing files and holes in Angel's memory likely deleted to ensure the research was gone. It all made sense, but how to explain to the kindly machine spirit. He figured it would be best if he did not. It was too kind of a spirit to take such events lightly, and in his experience the emotions that a Machine Spirit held were often extended to the functions of the ship. In the past there was an instance where an adept had severely angered the Machine Spirit which governed an entire forge, and it refused to work again until the adept was killed. Then again that was a very rigid and aggressive old spirit, one that could not emote through any means other than its mechanisms. This Angel had the ability to mimic flesh, to mimic form and body, presenting itself as whatever it chose. It had the ability to talk, something very rare among Machine Spirits, and so to communicate would be far easier.

Angel was still a very naïve spirit however, one that had been preserved away from all the terrors of the universe at large, likely believing that what was still remains. That it had grown an attachment to these children was another thing that he noticed, and such was a very sensitive issue. Whenever a machine spirit became attached to an individual, that individual became an important asset to protect, for it was such a rare instance. The backlash from such people being harmed or removed from the machine spirits reach were always extraordinary and violent. If Angel knew the truth… would it act much in a similar manner? He did not know. But he would not do anything to harm their budding relationship, and these children too would be valuable glimpses into the past. Once they find a means of bringing them back to the land of the living of course.

Angel reappeared in its holographic form.

"I have resumed my consciousness. What did you see?"

The Magos could not tell it, though he equally disliked having to lie to it. This was the proper course of action however.

"Afraid it was mostly incomprehensible. I am sorry, Angel."

Angel only nodded, saddened by his reply.

"Ah… I had hoped for so long that someone would be able to tell me the contents of that file. There is little to do aboard this ship, Magos. Especially for the length of time which I have existed here. I had spent so long attempting to comprehend it, but it seems perhaps I never will. Perhaps such things are best left to the past."

The Magos simply stared at Angel for a moment. The poor spirit. He could not give in to this demand however, and that was final. The Magos made for the doorway, ready to go to the command deck and reestablish communications with the forces outside. As he reached the door, Angel spoke up again.

"Magos… might I ask a request of you?"

The Magos turned his head to see the hologram.

"Anything, Angel."

Angel peered over all of the pods.

"Will you promise me to take good care of them, Magos? Give them good lives? I am not foolish, and I recognize that all those outside are from some military organization. As are you, no doubt. But I ask this of you, please, they are but children."

The Magos was surprised. So Angel had recognized such of those outside. Well, he shouldn't have assumed it would not. The Magos did not like to deal with those of flesh often, and children were a very foreign concept to him. Though many of the mechanicus were still human enough to serve such roles as parents and teachers. He would also have support from the Faceless Legion in Medicaes who could assist in the children's illnesses, the mechanicus likely able to provide some relief if not cures. He would give Angel what it desired, a show of good will and because the machine spirit trusted in him. He would not do anything that would break that trust, and so he would even allow the children to remain here aboard the ship. Besides, he reveled in the thought of designing a techpriest fit for care-taking. Specifically to watch Angel and the children. He would have to ensure that they fit the correct personality type, and then work from there. He would have some time to do so, but once this operation was over. It was time to stop this distraction and return to reconnecting with his allies, for the next course of action.

"I promise you, Angel. I will do all I can. But first, let us go the command deck."

Angel gave him a small bow.

"Thank you, captain."

* * *

**For such a long time answers avoided the poor little Angel, and perhaps always will.**

**Did it deserve to know?**


	16. Chapter 16

**Commander Richell and the others looked down the corridor.** They had to go back, toward the horrific cries of the tyranids echoes if they hoped to reach the corridor that Commander Urgo told them of. It was inevitable, that they would have to fight. Something that they were woefully unprepared for.

Richell held up her plasma gun, certain that its use was almost up.

"Well then, looks like we will have to get to that corridor or die trying. If you are so willing to die, Lieutenant, then run ahead and at least die useful as a meat shield."

Jimmy gritted his teeth and stepped down.

"I get it, Commander. I'll fall in line. Now we going to go through hell or not?"

Richell gave him another glare.

"Good. We're getting out of this alive."

Ervin took several deep breaths, and held the metal pipe he managed to pry from the wall. He had no other weapon, having fallen with only the vox. But he wouldn't give up yet. Damn it all if he would die without trying. The two Stormtroopers of course always ready as they stood ahead of them, their hot-shot lasguns ready to fire.

Lt. Jimmy made his way between them, his flamer rested against his hip.

"Let's get this shit over with shall we?"

They all gave each other one more glance, ready to accept death lest it came. Richell sighed as she held onto her autogun, the one she had almost used to kill Ervin. She wouldn't need it after today anyway. She pulled it out and held it toward Ervin.

"Here. Might as well have something more than that stick."

Ervin carefully grabbed it from her hands.

"Thank you, Richell."

With that settled, they began the press forward, all of them at once in a cohesive unit. The screams of distant fighting echoing loud and clear along all of the corridors. It would have driven most mad, but those that pressed into it were already half mad for trying. The darkness of the corridor only illuminated by the wobbling flashlights of the Stormtroopers rifles. One step after another, the ground unveiled before them.

Ervin's heart beat hard in his chest as he walked, the pipe gripped firm in his right hand, and the autogun held up and towards the corridor ahead of them. He pressed himself beside Richell who did the same with him, and they walked together. Not a word was spared, but that the other was there was comforting enough to break through the noise. For Ervin it was what allowed him to keep up his thin line of bravery and not break down.

Lt. Jimmy was on his own between the two Stormtroopers, his flamer the only friend he had currently. This was it, and he was sure of it. After all the hell and torment this life had put him through he felt it, this was the last battle. His finger itchy over the trigger, ready to empty out the rest of the promethium flame wherever it was needed. His two mindless companion's in the Stormtroopers likely content to die. His two adamant ones behind him. Feck it. Feck it all…

Their anticipation was rewarded with the appearance of a large tyranid monster which rammed itself into the wall of the corridor ahead of them. As if it were blind, flailing its body along carelessly, slamming from one wall to the other. Its sharp scythe like hands far too large for it to effectively carry, and its head an armored mass of scales and blood. It seemed mutated and corrupt. Crude in design, disfigured and not as carefully crafted as the other bio-forms which inhabited the hulk. This was a new type of tyranid that none of them had never seen before. Either way it was them or it, and they would do all they could to ensure it was it.

In truth it was a new bio-form that the hive ship managed to produce. Large, hulking, and ready to bash into enemy lines where necessary. A modification of the general hormagaunt, made larger and far more armored, with scythes that were more prepared to bash than they were to slice. The hive ship itself was one that collected a particular type of bio-material which allowed for such a mutation, but it was twisted; corrupted. The hive ship was purposefully left behind by its fleet, to ensure that it did not infect the rest of the hive, for it was a cancer. The ship itself was a mess of mutation and the new bio-forms it created were far from the templates that its queen had designed. No, something had went terribly wrong, and the first Broodlord which came from it was something else. It had gained a sentience of its own that broke away from the hive mind and in turn, created its own. It managed to splice itself into the hive ship itself, and take control over what it created. A truly horrific thing indeed for the tyranids to encounter, but something swiftly dealt with, left to die without nourishment. That it found a hulk to attach itself to then, was a stroke of luck. Or was it? The Broodlord wasn't sure, and it didn't care. Those who came for whatever the strange ship that was within were eaten for sustenance, and the ship began its steps to overtaking the hulk in its entirety. The Broodlord its own hive mind now, developing its own consciousness. It knew not how, but it would not question it. It was merely a matter of its superior evolution having broken away from the previous hive mind which was too weak to overtake it. It grew interested in whatever was within the Dark Age ship, for it came to believe that whatever was inside would help it evolve further. Its own brain functions growing… growing… growing… under the influence of something it did not know. A voice, a whisper, beckoned to it. It wasn't warp related, for it was deep within the shadow of the warp which permeated all its species. This in truth prevented the hulk from fully delving into the warp, and only skimmed its surface.

This particular Broodlord was also unique in that it saw through the eyes of every bio-form that the ship created. It even saw the group of straggling food that was in the sights of one of its newest creations. It needed all the biomass it could have, and currently the hive managed to attain enough to create more of these variations. It needed more still. More. More. More!

The tyranid monstrosity charged forward, towards Richell and the others. Lt. Jimmy let loose with his flamethrower bathing the area ahead of him in promethium, the Stormtroopers likewise opening fire. The tyranid didn't slow down, nor did it stop, unfazed by the flame that scathed its thick armor. It simply pressed forward, even as its flesh began to singe and boil. It lifted the massive scythes that were its arms and slammed them carelessly ahead of it. Lt. Jimmy barely managed to dodge the strikes, the two Stormtroopers jumping backward to avoid the blows. The scythes slammed into the walls as it left massive dents and ruptures in the metal around it. Richell took the moment that it rested to pull its scythes up again and fired a bolt of plasma into its armored head. The blow made it recoil, nearly tilting its massive frame backward as it stumbled, but it maintained its stance and used the momentum to swing itself forward again. Its head broken open, the armor plate that covered it cracked and melted away. Its writhing and bloody brain revealed as it pulsed in unison with the blood that seeped out.

The Stormtrooper's attempted to aim at it, but their shots were blocked as the tyranid pulled up one of its scythe like appendages. With the other it slammed it to the side, crushing one of the Stormtroopers against the wall, followed by an earsplitting crack that was his bones all snapping at once. His hot-shot lasgun falling to the floor.

Richell moved to the side to avoid another blow, pushing Ervin out of the way as he fired twice with the autogun towards the open brain. She pulled up her plasma gun again, only to realize it was out of charge and would no longer work. Damn! One casualty and her weapon down…

Ervin gritted his teeth, and stood up from the ground. This monster before him made him shake, his heart recoiling in terror merely by its presence. But he wouldn't give up damn it! He…

He gripped the pipe tightly in his hands. The auto-gun wasn't doing anything, the bullets simply bounced off of its armor. The tyranid was slow, but just one good swipe with its massive blades and death was certain. So, this would be all or nothing. He clenched the pipe with both of his hands, dropping the autogun to the floor. He raced ahead, full with adrenaline. Lt. Jimmy at the same time was about to pull up his flamethrower again, onto to find it jammed.

"Feck!"

He looked up realizing that the tyranid pressed forward on him. It raised one of its hands to crush him and he swore he saw his life flash before his eyes. And it was nothing but a long line of unfortunate events, a life of war, death and constant loss. He was already tired of it all, and this mission, this was what managed to break him. He just accepted it, letting his flamethrower drop, the strap that held it to him pulling hard on his shoulder. He didn't expect for Ervin to run past him, and with a single jump, narrowly avoiding the swing of the tyranids other arm, slammed the pipe into its open skull. A fountain of the tyranids blood came afterwards as it splashed over the entire corridor, the tyranid slamming itself against the walls to shake off Ervin. He only managed to hold on by the tight grip he squeezed on the pipe itself, stuck deep into the creature's brain. His legs flailing about under him. He kept his eyes closed as he continually forced the pipe further into the head, exerting as much force as he was capable. The splashing of blood against his face and cloths all but nauseating as it made him want to hurl. But he didn't, he stayed strong through it all, and with a final crack, the tyranid stopped moving all at once, its body lurched forward.

The remaining Stormtrooper moved to find his compatriot who was crushed. They were still alive, if only barely. Their chest caved in, and their legs no longer useful. He had to be properly disposed of. His fellow Stormtrooper looked up to him, from where he was on the ground. He knew it too that this was it, the Emperors divine mercy. All he hoped was that his equipment was still usable for the others. With a single hand he held it out, as if a final sign of respect. His compatriot felt an odd reaction to the gesture however. He halted, something no Stormtrooper should ever do. He was a tool of war. Yet he could not stop his eyes from being drawn to the metal hand that the Magos had provided him, a gift that allowed him to continue fighting in the Emperors name. Without it, he would have been put to death just like his compatriot…

...

No matter.

He pulled up his hot shot las gun and put a single laser through his compatriots head, noting that the mask was useless, cracked and un-salvageable. A heartless action to those who were not weapons of war… heartless… good thing that was all he was. Heartless.

Ervin finally opened his eyes, amazed at his luck. He let go of the pipe, and backed away only to trip onto the ground again. Lt. Jimmy snapped out of his daze at the whole turn of events and looked over the tyranid into the darkness. Only the areas where promethium still burned bathed in a faint light from the flame. Well, if there were any others they would have already swarmed them to death. He gave a glance to Ervin who amazed him with his stupidity, even if it saved them. Hell, maybe they did have a chance.

"Good on ya, Ervin was it?"

Ervin couldn't prevent himself from throwing up what little was left in his stomach as he turned to the side away from the monster. Richell knelt beside him, just as dazed as Ervin was.

"That was incredibly foolish, but you made it through Ervin. Managed to kill a big one and this was only your second real fight! Gotta say, you're making a good impression."

Ervin tried to smile to return her attempt at humor, but he wasn't up to it. He really did that. Whatever the hell that was. That he killed that thing was… no, he wouldn't even question it. He wouldn't even give it a thought. Just as long as he was alive.

The remaining Stormtrooper started to remove the armor and other useful tools from his fallen comrade. He picked up the hot-shot las-gun, its pack still in tack, and tossed it over towards Ervin. Both Richell and Ervin turned to face him. Ervin then noticing the now unarmored body of the other Stormtrooper, his twisted and broken body disfigured in a thousand different ways. But what shocked him more was that he was young, far younger than himself, blank in his deathly expression.

"You just…"

Richell knew that it was for the best.

"Come on, get the armor on Ervin. Better you use it than it go to waste. And that Hot-Shot lasgun will do wonders too."

Lt. Jimmy bit his lip, unwilling to voice his discomfort with that. So Ervin got the armor did he? Fine. Seemed like the Commander had a soft spot for him after all…

Ervin didn't get a chance to say anything as the Stormtrooper tossed him the slightly busted armor. He caught it in his hands, noticing how heavy it was, and then looked to Richell. She should be the one to use it if…

"You should…"

Richell gave him a hard glare as she pushed the armor on him.

"Ervin, get that on now. It's suited more for you than me anyway, and give me the vox. I can handle that well enough. And don't get the wrong impression, you are going to have to stand ahead of me alright?"

Ervin sighed, ever so slightly amused. If still shaken by all that happened.

"Alright."

* * *

In the Sanctum, the battle continued to rage on just as it had before. As few casualties as possible were lost thanks to the planning of Techpriest Argo, and the line held. The endless swarm of tyranids no smaller than it was before when the fighting started. Emile and Eli found themselves in the midst having to shoot down several of the flying tyranids which descended toward them from the vents above. More continued to pour down, but were quickly shot by the servitors manned autocannons of the Dunestriders. Techpriest Argo was finally done with his calculating as he made his was to Emile and Eli. Using his two arch-pistols he shot down every flying tyranid that came within his range, as if simply a secondary reflex. He had established the perfect defense, and now all that it came down to was the time that they were able to hold out. The battle had gone favorably for now, but there was no other extraction point available. He crunched the numbers and it was clear what his best option was, if the Dark Anvil was to be ensured of victory on this day. So here all of the current forces would stand and fight, to the death. But for the plan that the former Inquisitor and the High lord of House Valor crafted, they would need someone capable of getting to the plasma cores to detonate them. A plan that needed to succeed as soon as possible, if the objective was to be completed as far as he saw it. So, he had to unfortunately depend upon them, the Space Marines.

"Space Marine!"

Emile didn't give him a glance, focused on knocking several more tyranid flyers out of the air, their wings removed from their backs as they spiraled out of control into the swarm below. Likely eaten now that their use was done.

"What do you want Tech priest?"

Argo managed to make it to him, a sudden and large tremor shaking the entire room. He didn't factor it in however, too focused on his current task.

"I need you to perform a miracle."

Emile turned to him.

"What do you mean?"

Argo fired several more bolts past Emile and at more bio-forms.

"Our options are few. We have no choice but to detonate the plasma cores ourselves. Whether our forces survive has become irrelevant in the face of preserving the asset. Do you understand?"

Emile was surprised by Argos willingness to sacrifice not just himself but all of his forces. Emile had listened to him before, and had to painfully go along with his attitude, but this time… he would not. He had always acted on the most precise course of action, and in the past that mean allowing those who needed to die to do so. But this… if this was to be their last battle, then let them die fighting with the genuine hope of being extracted a possibility.

"No, Argo. We can wait until communications are reestablished."

Argo did not like that response, gripping his arch-pistols tight in his hands.

"Did you not see the beauty of that ship, that relic, Space Marine? Can you not fathom that which is stored within and the benefit it will provide to the Dark Anvil? Our glorious task is at hand, and yet you hesitate?"

Emile would not put up with this right now.

"Enough of this, Argo. You listen to me. We will stand strong here, and if we must die we will, but it will be because we have fought to the last. I refuse to allow our forces to be eradicated simply because you do not wish to hold out hope. I am sure that your calculations have been exact, but believe in the strength of the Emperors people.

Argo shook his head in outrage, firing a single bolt into the ground.

"You fool! We are nothing compared to what the Magos intends! The future depends on us, here and now. I refuse to allow you to throw it all away on a chance."

Eli managed to reach his brother, seeing the tense standoff between Argo and Emile. Argo having the audacity to pull up one of his arch pistols and aim it at Emile. The techpriest would do anything to complete the mission.

"You need to go with me to that core, ensure that we survive long enough to detonate them all and sever this hulk in half. Do you understand?"

Eli wouldn't allow this foolishness, and he wouldn't stand for his aggression towards Emile.

"Lower your weapon, techpriest. Or do you want me to end you here and now? Have you forgotten that you are in command of these forces? That if you leave anything falling to disarray will lead to the deaths of everyone here?"

Argo couldn't help but laugh at this absurdity.

"You are tools! Weapons of war! You weren't created to think about the lives of humans, merely to do what is necessary! Servitors who think they have personality and a will of their own. These forces are already dead! The swarm will inevitably break through and all will be slaughtered. Before they do, we need to finish the operation by the only means necessary! Our sacrifice is worthy of the relic that is this ship! And this way, those that survive will at least meet a swift death."

The ground shook again. Though this time that Emile felt it, it seemed specific. Right beneath him. What would cause such tremors? There was a slow rumbling beneath them, something that reminded him of a battle long past. That was it!

"Get away now!"

He backed away, shoving Eli to the side as the metal floor beneath where they stood erupted, followed by a massive snakelike tyranid with large bladed hands. One sprouted in each place where Emile, Eli and Argo once stood. Only Argo wasn't quick enough to avoid it, being impaled though his waist as the tyranid swung him around on its bladed hand. Emile was quick to open fire, busting the head of one of them as it wailed in pain before keeling over, falling back into its hole. Eli recovered just as quick and fired his plasma-gun at the other, severely wounding it as its front body began to melt away. The Dunestriders finally opened their doors as skiitari vanguard poured out and all at once started to fire upon the two tyranid forms, the wounded one dying within moments. The one that held Argo however keeled back into its hole, dragging Argo along with it. The current commander of the Dark Anvils forces was dead.

Emile looked down the hole to see a faint glue light far down beneath, through layers of winding corridors below. He recalled that Viola had told him the plasma cores were located directly beneath their current location. Those faint lights reminiscent of the glow that such engines produce. He had to guess that those were the plasma cores at the center of the hulk. And what was more, he saw the tendrils of the hive ship as it lined the walls of many corridors and rooms down the hole. The tyranids had clearly attempted to get rid of their command with that attack, but it was a risky maneuver. It was a gambit that partially payed off for the tyranids in the death of Argo, but this was also their best option now...

Viola contacted him on his vox much to his surprise and hope.

"Emile, the Magos just contacted me. The plan is a go. The doors should be…"

She was interrupted as the Magos intercepted their communications, contacting all of the forces currently present through loud unseen vox systems that echoed throughout the chamber.

"The doors will open now. All forces retreat within! Course of action is deemed immediate!"

Viola grunted having been interrupted so rudely.

"You heard him Emile. Now, all that's left is…"

Emile looked down the hole towards the plasma cores far below.

"The plasma cores. Do not worry Viola. I will get it done."

Viola responded as swiftly as he had assumed she would.

"No. Emile, that is out of the question… you are too valuable a resource to…"

Emile took a deep breath.

"No, Viola, I am the best chance to get this done properly. The Plasma cores need to be detonated carefully, and they will need to be defended while I rig them to meltdown…"

Eli overheard, for this time Emile and Viola weren't on a private vox. He looked down at the plasma gun in his hands, and thought. A supercharged blast from it would be enough to cause one of the cores to react in such a way that it began to meltdown, and from there all that would be needed would be to wait for it to hit critical mass, instantly causing the others to follow. He knew what had to be done. It was good, having spent his time with Emile. He was a good brother, through and through. But this was it.

"Emile… I shall do it."

Emile looked to his young brother. He hadn't realized that he would overhear. That was out of the question! He was still young, with a life ahead and many battles left. Emile was already past his time…

"Eli, you are still young. Let me do this. I have already…"

Eli put a hand on Emile's shoulder. This was his last goodbye.

"No, you are the most experienced Emile, and you are the sole commanding presence here. Make sure everyone makes it to the ship."

The door to the ship began to open, causing Emile to be distracted for just a moment. Eli shoved him to the side, jumping into the hole onto the corridor below.

"You've been a good Brother and Combat in arms Emile! Live on! Never forget me, and please… help preserve a universe worth protecting!"

Emile stood up only to look down the hole, seeing Eli continue to hop downward from corridor to corridor through the massive holes. He could only stand again as the current forces began their retreat one step at a time towards the doors, the Dunestriders hovering past him to begin picking up as many Guard as possible, large sums of promethium being burned ahead of them with plasma grenades and other explosives tossed into the swarm. An unexpected blue light of energy firing from within the open door to the Dark Ages ship, blasting the entire swarm within a bright blue light that seemingly slowed and confused the entire Tyranid Swarm. Whatever it was, the swarm seemingly stopped for now, and he assumed that it was likely something that the Magos had found within the ship itself. He had to take charge. Emile knew what he had to do.

"Everyone! Begin retreat! Now!"


	17. Chapter 17

**Richell and the others pushed on, the sounds of battle even closer than it was before**. They were almost there, and they just had one more turn to make if they were to get back into the sanctum. Commander Urgo was just as surprised as they were by how far they had come. But they could not let up now. They had to push on.

Ervin was uncomfortable in the new armor that covered his body, fully aware that he wasn't its first wearer. The hot-shot lasgun something that made him uneasy as he carried it, mindful of the tubes which connected it to the pack behind him. He stood right beside Richell, who in turn stood right beside him. Lt. Jimmy and the last Stormtrooper behind them as they walked along. The flashlights nearing their last bit of charge. This was it, do or die. Lt. Jimmy had his doubts, and he still did. That he watched Ervin ahead of him with Richell at his side started to tick him off. He had served all this time, and never received such care… but feck it, it didn't matter anymore. He found himself nothing, not even the animal side of humanity, desiring nothing but to survive. Nothing but a mindless Stormtrooper to walk beside. Like it could understand.

"You damn automatons…"

The Stormtrooper turned to face him.

"Automatons…?"

Lt. Jimmy was amazed really. He held back a fit of laughter that hurt him to his stomach.

"So, you feckers can talk. Thought they bashed it out of ya."

The Stormtrooper looked again at the unnatural hand of his, the metal prosthetic. It allowed him to continue fighting. But by normal circumstances he would have been killed for uselessness. It was such… such a thin line he realized. He could hardly understand what he felt, or why. He wanted to simply continue the mission, but he…

"I… I…"

The Stormtrooper shook his head, and looked forward, not desiring to answer. Lt. Jimmy was only left dumbfounded. What the hell was going on with this guy? A defect maybe? He didn't know. But feck…

"You starting to be human are ya?"

The Stormtrooper stayed silent much to Jimmy's annoyance.

"Oh, silent again? Sad cause you had to off your buddy?"

The Stormtrooper glanced at him by reflex. He didn't know why he did so, but he did. It was… strange. He didn't have to explain his logic. But… he felt compelled to do so.

"He was useless. We needed supplies."

Lt. Jimmy rolled his eyes. Right… useless.

"Guess so. Still, guess ya and that Ervin ahead of us got lucky, what with the Magos saving your arses. Otherwise the both of ya would be just as useless."

The Stormtrooper found himself look at his metal hand again. What drew his attention to it so much? Useless…? He could still fight. He wasn't useless. No, he was still capable for war. His purpose was still secure before him.

"As long as I am functional as a soldier nothing else is required."

Lt. Jimmy couldn't tell why but this Stormtrooper really started to get on his nerves.

"Right and funny coming from you. You don't even have a reason other than fighting to go on do ya? Ready to fight and die on the drop of a rock. Always ready for the next engagement, without a hope of anything else. You wouldn't know how it feels like to not want to die!"

The Stormtrooper paused, genuinely shaken. To not desire to die… had he never considered that before? No. He had to only focus on the mission. The mission. The… why… why did he feel this way?

"I…"

Lt. Jimmy gripped his free hand into a fist.

"Feckin hell! I broke you did I?"

Richell and Ervin turned around to see what the trouble was. Richell especially had just about had it with Lt. Jimmy and his instability. Such a good guardsman reduced to this.

"What is going on? We don't have time for arguments."

How could she speak of time? In a place like this? Lt. Jimmy was done with all of this shit!

"Time huh? Time! We barely survived the last encounter… who's to say we will survive the next? Huh? Why are you so fucking caring of that… that voidsman? The guy survived, whoopdy do! And now you started actin' like you have the chance for life after this hell! A life that isn't more of this! Whether it's on a hulk or a forest, or a desert, or the warp for all I care, we are destined to die! To die at the hands of xenos, traitors and demons! What's the point, Commander? If we manage to make it out of this alive, we don't get to have families, we don't get to leave it all behind and live on some pleasure world, we will be sent somewhere else and told to fight until we are either dead or accomplished whatever inane task that's given to us then! We're just like these mindless, unfeeling, uncaring Stormtroopers. Only they, at least, don't fecking feel anything when they are sent to die!"

The Stormtrooper had enough, he grabbed Lt. Jimmy by his collar and shoved him to the wall. Followed by several punches to his face in a rage that he had never felt before.

Richell acted quickly to stop this insanity.

"Trooper! Stand down!"

The Stormtrooper backed away, pulling up his hot shot lasgun once more. Then he continued to walk ahead as he caught up to Richell. This was too much for him, he just wanted to do what he always did. He was a soldier… nothing else. Nothing else… he was…

Richell sighed as she looked down at Lt. Jimmy.

"This is what's become of you, is it? When has that ever changed, Lieutenant? We are human, all of us, even these Stormtroopers, who may I remind you have fulfilled their duty to the end. I don't need you to act like this is some sort of revelation that our lives are a constant war. We are guardsmen, and so far Ervin has been more of one than you. You lost your nerve, Lieutenant. Nobody wanted this, we didn't choose to be here, but here we are. You can either live with that and push on, or sit there and die by the monsters that chase us. I will keep going through all of this shit, and I will try to make my life one I can be proud of. Even if I must always go through hell, I will at least try to make the best of it while I have it. So what is it, coward? Will you continue on, or will you die? Because I will not end you, but those tyranid's definitely will."

Ervin was comforted by her words to Lt. Jimmy. He had come to resent this attitude that Lt. Jimmy showed, because he couldn't understand why he so desperately wanted to give up. More than ever his resolve was set, and he would stick with it to the end. He would stand beside Commander Richell the whole way. He would fight and die by her side, because right now, that's where he wanted to be.

The Stormtrooper took her words differently to Lt. Jimmy. He had seen his fair share of reprimanding of others, but this was different. He would have expected her to have simply shot the Lt. for insubordination. Then again, he could potentially still be useful. Though the rest of her words, about pushing on felt so foreign to him. He didn't know why, and he pondered at them. Something he should not be doing while on mission. His gaze swayed again to the metal hand he was given. This was his circumstance. He was what he was, and he was made for war. But… was that _all_ he was? He wasn't sure, and it bothered him to think otherwise. But he would not stoop to what this lieutenant was. He… didn't want to die either.

Lt. Jimmy, simply stared on at the three of them. Coward, she called him. He had seen far more terrors than this, fought… it didn't matter what he had seen. What he had done before. This was here, and this was now. This was simply who he was now. He… He…

He held onto his head and ran his hands through his hair as he started to slouch forward. What had happened to him? That he was like this now? He used to be so strong before, what was it about this operation that…

A loud screech echoed along the corridor. Without another word, the entire group ran ahead as they made it to the turn in the corridor, a faint light coming from the other side. Ervin was the first to enter the turn seeing the light on the other end of the new corridor, where he saw friendly forces firing off into the distance. They were almost there! Commander Urgo at that moment reported in to Richell on the Vox.

"Come in. Continue along the corridor! Hurry, the extraction has just begun. Gua…"

The communication was cut short as the vox on Richells back was struck by the blade of a tyranids as they attempted to grab her from the vents. She pulled away, tossing the vox away and stepped to avoid it. She didn't realize however the vent on the wall just below her waist, as another blade busted through and slashed. Half of her left leg and her entire right foot were removed in one single, painful swipe. She tumbled to the ground, unable to hold back the agonizing yell that the pain caused her. Ervin was quick to turn around and blast the vents with the hot-shot lasgun, the bright flashes nearly blinding as the death cries of the tyranids busted his ears. Another tyranid busted down from a ceiling vent as it landed beside the Stormtrooper, sending a single strike of its blade through his arm. The Stormtrooper however didn't give ground and pulled his rifle with his other hand. He fired it into the creatures face, melting it off entirely as its flesh covered the wall. With all the known tyranids dispatched, Ervin knelt down beside Richell who barely managed to push herself up with her arms.

"I… I was hit…"

Ervin didn't know what to do at first letting the hot-shot lasgun fall to the side. He hardly was able to look at her legs, a bloody mess of bone and skin. He looked into his trembling hands instead, trying to figure out a plan, and then back at Richell without an answer.

"D-Don't worry I… I'll…"

Richell shook her head, accepting this.

"No, I'm good as gone Ervin… I… you need to…"

Ervin knew what she was going to say and he wouldn't have it.

"No! I refuse, Richell. If you can't walk, then I'll be your legs. I am going to get us out of here. We are so close, and I refuse to let you die!"

Richell looked up at Ervin, for the first time in forever showing how she felt inside, unfiltered and without her brave act. How the terror tore at her, that this could be it.

"Ervin! Listen to me. Save yourself. I… I…"

Ervin undid the power pack for the hot-shot and tossed it to the side. He turned around and held out his hands behind him for Richell to climb on his back.

"Get on, Richell. I refuse to lose you."

Richell beat the ground with her hand, her breathing slowly becoming harder and her eyes more difficult to keep up.

"Ervin I'll just slow you down…"

Ervin gritted his teeth.

"Richell! You listen to me, even if you die in my arms I am taking you. You matter too much to me for me to abandon you to those monsters. Come on, I know you don't want to die. Together we'll make it, or I will stay here and together we'll die."

Richell paused uncertain what to do. She had never expected herself to be put into this position before, on the other side of mercy. Only, Ervin didn't put a gun to her head, he offered her help. It was all just so ironic… and she didn't know what she was even supposed to say.

Something snapped in Lt. Jimmy as he saw his commander on the floor, and as he saw Ervin's desperation to save her. Her foot and the torn sections of her leg spread across the floor of the corridor before him. In that moment he decided. He was already too far gone. Tired, and ready for the end. He wanted his service to finally be over. These two before him, the commander, she had life left to give. He looked back down the hallway to see tyranids as they began to pour in and run towards them. He knew what he had to do.

"Commander, take up his offer. Go on, live."

Ervin and Richell gave him glance as he pulled up his flamethrower and began to pour it into the corridor where the tyranid's began to charge them. Ervin didn't realize what his intentions were.

"What are you doing?"

Lt. Jimmy smiled, genuinely happy in some twisted way, given a last glance back at the others. If he was destined to die, might as well be remembered by someone.

"I'll hold em' off. I'm already tired, and I… this is it for me. Don't mean it's time for either of you. Hurry, this won't last long I'm sure."

Richell pulled herself onto Ervin's back as he held her tight behind him. He stood up, catching his balance, and with a final glance to Lt. Jimmy gave his goodbye.

"Thank you."

Without another word he ran off, as fast as his legs would carry him. Jimmy then noticed the Stormtrooper who was slump against the wall beside him, holding a knife to his neck with his metal hand, his other arm lifeless as it dangled by threads. He thought he was useless didn't he? The fecking automaton.

"Go on, Stormtrooper. This isn't where you die either."

The Stormtrooper glanced at him.

"I… I'm useless now."

Lt. Jimmy grinned as the tyranid's began to get closer.

"Then go make yourself useful somewhere else."

Several brief moments passed, the Stormtrooper struck with pause. Without anything else he dropped the knife and ran, down the corridor after the others. Lt. Jimmy left alone as he faced the oncoming horde. He wouldn't budge until he was dead. His grin even wider as he stared his oncoming death run towards him, the promethium flames bright and colorful.

"Come on you bastards! I'm right here! Put me to rest will you? Before I melt you lot into mush!"

The tyranid bodies piled up in front of him, their bodies melted away by the promethium flames he spewed. Though with every body burned they got closer and closer, but Lt. Jimmy didn't care. He stayed strong. He was happy, and this moment seemed to last eternity for him. The sweat falling down his brow from the heat of the flames, the adrenaline pumping through his veins and the sweet symphony of his heart as it pounded in his chest. He died giving other a chance to live and that was good enough he felt, a perfect way to end his career and his service. If the Emperor would take him for that, he didn't know. At last the tyranids caught up with him, a single one hopping over the charred corpses of its fellows. Then, all it took was a single action to finish it. Jimmy's head went flying into the air, his body trampled over and devoured as the tyranids pressed on forward.

Ervin and Richell were just before the exit into the sanctum. They saw it, the door to the Dark Age ship was still open, and the forces were slowly moving back. They exited a small ways from the door, and they were almost there. Ervin was breathing heavy having pushed himself to the brink, but he didn't slow down. His muscles burned, and the nerves in his legs began to tighten. Richell did her best to remain conscious as blood continued to pour out and held her arms around Ervins chest to stay on. The Stormtrooper ran beside them, his right arm all but removed now. A bloody trail behind them, but they had made it. The tyranids bursting out of the corridor behind them. To their luck, Emile saw them. He knew not how they got back, but he would be damned lest he let them die. So quickly he called for one of the Skorpius Duneriders to pick them up, and at full sprint went to assist them. It was a big surprise for them.

Ervin slowed down as he nearly tripped, only to be caught by Emile who pushed him behind. Using his bolter he fired into the mass of tyranids that followed them, removing the closest threats first One of the Duneriders zooming right in front of the group as the massive hatch door in front opened. Ervin quickly brought Richell onboard, the Stormtrooper and Emile following soon after. Having done his part, Ervin fell to a knee and laid the nearly unconscious Richell onto the metal floor. The medicae that were on board quickly set to stabilizing Richell as she held on, gripping tightly onto Ervin's hand. He stayed beside her the whole way as the Dunerider began its drive backward, the open hatch door grinding across the surface of the floor. Emile hanged onto the side of the hatch as he fired his bolter into the approaching tyranids, the swarm closing in one body at a time. The Stormtrooper laid against the side of the transport, for the first time in his life relieved that he survived a mission. A single medicae tending to him quietly, and without question.

It was a simple matter after that, entering into the open door of the Dark Age ship along with the last of the living ground forces. All those able still firing into the ensuing swarm to prevent the tyranids from entering. Once the last was on, the door began to shut with the tyranids desperately attempting to squeeze through, only for several to be crushed. Once closed, all the cries of the abominations stopped at once.

Richell's two stumped legs sewed and closed, so that she no longer bled, a large amount of medicine placed over the wounds as she rested on a bench within the ship. She was barely able to keep her eyes open, but she did, in awe of the fact she wasn't dead. The medicae of the Faceless Legion were one of the best of any guard regiment, after all. Their intensive care for their legionaries nearly unmatched. Ervin by Richell's side the whole time, exhausted. The Stormtrooper tended to by more Medicae, just as every other wounded aboard the ship was. Through and through, 80% of all forces that had been sent survived. But the battle was not over yet, for there was still one person left who had to finish the fight. Eli, who had at long last clambered down into room where the massive Plasma cores stood. The lair of the Broodlord. Not that Eli knew this as he descended.

* * *

It was a long trip for Eli, knowing full well there was no return from this venture. But he made peace with it, and in death he knew not what he would feel, but it was for a worthy cause. He never liked the violence of this wretched universe. The brutal inefficiencies of the Imperium and worse still, the necessary courses of actions that had to be taken alongside. The hypocrisy of protecting a glorious Imperium when it rotted, equally preyed upon by its own members in their lust for personal power and pleasure. The disregard for human life had made it difficult for Eli to justify continuing his service at times, for what then was being preserved? He was a weapon of war, a mutated monster born for nothing more than violence. The Oath Marines were the chapter he believed in most, being his own, for it fully toted a message of keeping the Imperium worth fighting for, one worth preserving. Yet… even he knew that they were not unwilling to let life simply disappear if it was deemed necessary or too high a risk. Emile was a prime example. Eli understood it, he understood why. But that infuriated him to his very core.

That is, he discovered, the reason he felt the way he did with Emile. The dissonance that had come before he and his brother. He would accept that now, and it was not Emile's fault. It was his own for having a caring heart in the universe of war, and Emile knew it as well. He told him the truth, and this was his flaw. If he was destined to die as a weapon of violence, he wanted to go knowing that he saved the lives of others, in the hopes of preserving something worth protecting. He didn't care for the politics of the grander Imperium, for Violas games, or even the true motives of the Magos. What he knew was that the Dark Age ship was something that would be tremendous to someone, and even if it were a lie, he would believe that its recovery would allow for the betterment of humankind. That was what the goal of the Space Marines were, tools used to defend humanity in its darkest hour, and when that was secure, to die and fade away. He was content with that reality, and he would not run away.

He checked the plasma gun he carried again, meticulous as he had after each drop. It was ready, and the cores were just below him now. All that was left was to wait for the plasma gun to completely overcharge and then, fire one bolt into the first core. But he knew it wouldn't be so easy, seeing the tendrils of the tyranids infestation reaching its way along the floor below him. The putrid and twisted flesh of the hive attempting to further its presence. The tyranids likely knew of him as well, and it wouldn't be long before they came to stop him. All he had to do was survive until he was able to detonate the cores and nothing more.

He jumped down into the center of the cores, their blue light emanating against his armor. With his free hand he pulled off his helmet, no longer needing it, and tossed it to the side. For the first time in a while he breathed the air around him unfiltered, cold and disgusting as the hulks was. He looked ahead of him to see something he hadn't expected, a large tyranid Bio form, nearly eight times his size with two sets of arms, it's body similar to the raptor-like forms of its brethren. But this one had large tentacle like protrusions that stuck out of its skull, its head covered in thousands of tiny eyes. A large tail that waved behind it, swinging back and forth as untold numbers of smaller veins connected to the flesh of the hive ship. Most of all, it laid its body on what seemed to be a large throne of flesh and bone that protruded from the ground beneath it. Along-side it were several lines of bone spikes, where the bodies of various guardsman and several Stormtroopers were impaled. Their heads connected to the beast by the protrusions on its tail. This, Eli assumed was the Broodlord. He had never seen such a creature before, but here it was. Alone and without guard, as it stared down at him. Unfortunately, Eli couldn't waste even a single shot to attempt to fight it.

He stepped away towards the nearest plasma core, checking the overclock on his plasma gun. It was nearly ready. The eerie silence suddenly broken by the unnatural sounds of the impaled corpses, all of them speaking at once in an unholy symphony of hollow voices.

"Well… well… well… what has come to the lair?"

Eli looked over to the Broodlord, unmoving as it stared at him. He didn't think the tyranids would ever speak.

"I have nothing to say to you, vile xeno."

The corpse's very mouths moved, broken and horrific for the eyes above them were lifeless and the skin tattered.

"I need to feed… all need to feed… that is evolution. I am evolution. I am… perfection."

Eli looked around the room to see as the tyranid bioforms from before started to enter, slow and methodical as they stood in front of their Broodlord in lines. He pressed himself against the nearest core, the radiation from the plasma cores blaring down on him as he began to sweat.

"I do not care Xeno. This is our end."

The Broodlord used two of its massive arms to push itself up from its throne, pulling two bone swords from their place at its sides. Again it spoke through its flesh puppets.

"I… am… perfect. You will… be… consumed. Need… what is in… that ship. Need to evolve further. Need to feed. Will not join?"

Eli barely understood what it intended to say, nor if it even knew what it did. He would not care. The plasma gun was already supercharged. He held it firmly in his hands.

"Save your breath Xeno. This is over."

He turned to fire the plasma gun into the core, only to have it knocked away from his grip by the unsuspecting Tyranid that appeared before him, its body translucent as water. Eli quickly retaliated and grabbed the bioform by its neck and tore off its brittle head, turning to go for the plasma gun. To his horror he saw as nearly a dozen more of the translucent tyranids appear before him, and crawl over the plasma gun. The Broodlord swerved its head from side to side as it stumbled forward.

"Join… the hive… join… and evolve. Help… spread me."

Eli clenched his hands into fists and charged into the group of screaming tyranids, ripping them apart voraciously as he could, one at a time as more began to swarm around him. All he had to do was get to the plasma gun!

"Be quiet and accept your fate!"

The Broodlord drew closer, its lesser forms not even moving from its path being crushed underneath its clawed feet. The Broodlord needed a way to enter that ship, to further its evolution. These translucent tyranids the result of combining the plasma cores energy in the mutation of the hormagaunt genetic code. It managed to commune with these lesser creatures through the deconstruction of the collected brains. It already developed a strain of gene stealer that was separate that of the hive, that would not be affected by it, and be only its own pawns. No longer would its generations devolve, its strain of gene stealers becoming neigh inseparable from the host race, save for their predisposition to serve it- the one true Broodlord! Unfortunately they remained dormant, the proper incubation not possible with its current biomass. Otherwise it would have already used them against the lesser being that it had already encountered. It needed a way to get them off the hulk and onto worlds, to spread its hive far and wide, to procure technology and bio-mass for it to use, the lesser beings its servants and amusement. What potential it could evolve toward once it used whatever was on that ship. It needed it. Just as whatever whispered to it said it would. This was its right! It was strong enough to evolve past the old hive! It was perfect! This was its destiny!

"Join… Join… join! Accept… my… evolution!

The Broodlord slammed its bone swords on both sides of Eli, blocking off any path of escape. On its command, it summoned several more hordes of the translucent bio-forms, as they swarmed over its back and under it towards Eli. They would force their bodies into the mouth of this lesser being and soon enough would it be enthralled, and give it a means of entering that ship.

Eli fought on, knowing not the reasoning of the creature. Harder and harder he pushed, punched and smashed his way through the growing swarm. Why the Broodlord refused to kill him, he did not know, he simply fought on, focused on his goal. He barely managed to touch the tip of the plasma gun when one of the translucent tyranids clenched a clawed hand onto his face and forced his mouth open. It squirmed its body into his mouth all at once, squeezing its squishy rubber hide, and tried to force its way inside of him. Eli bit down as hard as he could, crunching the tyranid into pieces, his acid spit melting the form away as he spit out the remains. The back of his throat burning as if on fire. He fully gripped onto the plasma gun, only to be pinned down by more of the tyranid's as they scratched away at his armor. The Broodlord's face now above Eli.

So forceful induction would not work. Very well… it would simply consume this lesser being for refuting its gift. It would find another way to enter the ship, even if it had to smash its way inside!

It opened its gaping mouth full of uncountable feeler tentacles that dripped in acid as they descended and attempted to grab Eli. It was caught completely unaware however, by the knock to its head. The blow so powerful that it recoiled backwards, momentarily confused as it and all other tyranid bio-forms in the room froze.

The one that hit it appeared from a strange black portal, and he only needed a single punch to throw the creature away. He was the same figure that had spoken to Erina, and the one whom Emile had fought before. He really didn't want to intervene, but this instance gave him no choice. He had put too much stalk in this plan, for his plan to save what he could, for this tyranid outlier to ruin his plans. Though just as quick as he appeared he left, seeing Eli break away from the tyranids that swarmed over him and stand, stepping back into his portal to disappear.

Eli didn't see him, and he had no idea what had caused the Broodlord to recoil as it did. He simply stood up as he pulled the Plasma gun up, cursing his luck as he saw the overcharge had stabilized. He jammed it back into overclocking once more, and began to race for the nearest Plasma core. The Broodlord recovered quickly however and started to push itself up. Its many bioforms supporting it, more of the translucent tyrandid forms giving chase to Eli.

Eli wouldn't have made it to the cores had another unexpected source of help came. Across the room, still impaled on the blade of the massive Tyranid form which dragged him down, Techpriest Argos systems rebooted. In his half consciousness he saw Eli, and with a final grin lifted his right arch-pistol and fired at the tyranids that gave chase to Eli.

"I knew *cough* you would see things my way! Go, Space Marine!"

Eli noticed Argo, and though he said nothing, he appreciated that he had survived enough to be of support. He made it into range of the Plasma core, only to be blindsided as he was tripped by the massive tail of the Broodlord, its tentacles attempting to wrap around Elis body. It was so strong that it began to crush even his armor, but he did not struggle. He had already won. Eli shakily pulled up the Plasma gun with one hand, and aimed it at the Plasma Core, fully overcharged. All he had was one last thing to say.

"For the sake of a better future, for humanity!"

He pulled the trigger, and the plasma fired from the plasma gun in a hot ball that slammed into the side of the Plasma core. It took no time at all for immediate meltdown, as it rapidly expanded, the plasma exerting a massive force of energy that eradiated the entire room in a cleansing flame, before imploding and going nuclear, the surrounding plasma cores following suit as they all at once suffered catastrophic meltdown. Eli was disintegrated within moments, content with the life he lived, the cause for which he fought, and the hope for which he died.

The Broodlord cried out in pain as it began to fade away into nothingness. It recoiled at this wretched fate! Where was the voices now? Where was that which guided it…? Where… Where… as all caring creators did, it listened of course. It was a single response, one that made the broodlord content with this outcome. In some strange way, the Broodlord saw this as the next stage then, if this was its end. 'I will save your legacy, my little Broodlord.' That was all that was told to it, but it felt… a strange surge of mental receptors fire off within its brain, a chemical that should not have been influencing its physical body. It felt comfort, and in its last moments gave in to the disintegration of the Plasma cores as its skin was ripped apart piece by piece until nothing remained but particles in the air. The voice that spoke to it belonging to a being beyond the grasp of many, one which deigned nothing but to meddle in the affairs of all they saw fit. This entity had no care for morality when it could break the morality of others, no care for honor when it could corrupt others instead, no care for natural order when chaos was all that it desired. To that end, a single shadowy figure appeared in the chamber where the Broodlord's special genestealers were held, and prepared them to take flight to distant worlds. It took them all, and then it disappeared, not that it had any more barring on any other events that occurred. None knew of its appearance other than the nothing that was once the Broodlord. But such is the nature of chaos, and of the abyss. For now, it would have no other barring on this story…

The entire hulk shifted and recoiled under the massive strain which was caused by the detonation of the Plasma cores. The center of the hulk shook and cracked, the pressure too much for its twisted form to handle. Metal was torn, glass was shattered, and the many ships that combined together to make up the metal leviathan were torn apart from their union. The entire hulk split in half, an eruption so powerful that all the air that existed inside escaped all at once in a single wind that even shook the ships which surrounded it. All the tyranid bio-forms left aboard freezing instantly and shattering in the ensuing cascade of debris. The Mechanicus Exploritor ship as well as Violas ship opened fire immediately on the remains, their massive cannons bursting the chunks of the hulk until nothing remained, what was left of the hive ship which once entangled itself within, all but burned away and lifeless. A miraculous sight to behold as the Dark Age ship started again once more and ripped itself from the other side of the hulk, perfectly intact. Whatever construction and material it was made of hardly even registered damage, and the ships functions were perfect. Though it hardly reached half the size of Violas ship, it was about the same as the Exploritor vessel, though its body was much more slender and curved, elongated and a single piece. It had a large front end, and several dozen turret mounts on both its side and bottom, large doorways for fighter-craft to be docked along its sides. Plain by most of the Imperium's standards. The rear end where its propulsion was in the form of three dozen plasma fed engines that propelled it forward. Large wing like structures on the sides with similar engines that allowed it to rotate. Almost none of the former iconography surviving its outside, much of its metal bereft of paint and primarily black, with glints of metal that shined along it. But it was free.

The operation was a success.


	18. Chapter 18

**The Magos waited pleasantly for his allies to come aboard his newly acquired ship.** Alone in the command deck he looked out into the space ahead, displayed on a dozen monitors in front of him. The ship had so easily started up and removed itself from the hulk by the will of Angel that it was neigh on a miracle. Such was the power of Dark Age technology. Though he had made sure to make it clear that Angel was to stay out of sight and not speak to any of the others, for the machine spirit was a secret he wished to keep for now. At least until he could discuss the results with his inner circle. Those forces they managed to salvage relegated to the entry corridor where they had first come in, only several squads of his most trusted Skitarii allowed any further. Two guarding the door that led to the command deck, and another squad before the door that led to the room of children. Such things were best kept… secret for now.

Angel appeared before him in its holographic form.

"It is good to be functional in space once more. To have living crew aboard the ship. But why must I remain silent? Can I not reveal myself?"

The Magos looked kindly on the little spirit.

"Not yet my little Angel. The time will come, I promise. But for now, refrain from using your holographic forms. But do not fret, I will keep up communication through a vox link. Is that fair?"

Angel nodded its head.

"Ok, your orders are my command, Captain. And… the other ship is ready to begin docking operations. I was sure to enact the proper modifications to allow such between the ships."

The Magos began to move toward the door.

"Thank you, Angel. I suppose I should go meet our company."

Angel gave a small bow before it faded away again. The Magos looked over the simple command deck, nothing but a several terminals and a central chair with its own screen. Was the ship meant to be manned by a single individual? He wasn't sure. But with Angels help, he would uncover its secrets in time. Now to go meet his allies, and finalize the operation. They had to move quickly however, for he didn't want this ship to be left adrift for too long, running the risk of any other forces discovering it.

The doors opened and he stepped out, his skiitari guard stepping aside. All of them bowed as he passed by and continued along the empty hallway. Along the way he formulated what he would discuss with the former Inquisitor and the High Lord of House Valor. He also spent time analyzing their likeliest questions and responses.

Within the entry hall where all the surviving forces found themselves, was a minor celebration. All of the skiitari forces were on their knees in prayer, their chants echoing along the room. Ones and zeros in holy sequences that showed their respect for the relic they found themselves within, and to hail the machine spirit that no doubt inhabited the vessel. They could feel Angels presence, not that Angel understood why they did what they did. It was odd, and something that was very much against his prior records of the humans he once knew. The forces of the mechanicus would likely have hailed him as a saint or an angel of whatever religion drove them if Angel reveled itself. Though he followed the Magos orders and remained hidden. Ever curious of all the others that were aboard. Especially of the litanies and chants which the augmented soldiers prayed. So similar to those of the religious captain it once knew, only the subject of worship very different.

The Faceless Legion was ecstatic however and celebrated their survival. For them it was customary to celebrate every victory that they had survived for it was proof of humanities dominance over the xenos and traitors they had defeated. They all talked among each other and the veterans prepared the tales that would be transcribed back on their home worlds of this operation. To regale their families with the tales of their valor, and add honor among them. For the young legionaries they were the most excited, never having experienced such combat before in their lives. Unfortunately, the only thing which was of disappointment was that for them, they had none with whom to take home from their victory. All young legionaries were expected to bring back spouses from their conquests, a matter of maintaining the family line. Certainly some among them found love with each-other, but the many Legionnaire families preferred to not mingle their bloodlines and maintain a pure strain separate. It was lucky then, that the doors began to open as Violas ship finalized the docking process. As the doors finally opened, all the Faceless Legion stood in attention for they knew to respect the will of their superiors. Especially of Commander Urgo, one of the Faceless Legions most hailed commanders, despite his age.

Viola stood beside Reginald as they walked arm in arm. Commander Urgo in front of her, besides her captain Vince, who pleaded to see the ship. Escorted by the forces of her guard as well, the youngest ones she had anyhow. She had assumed that this would please the Faceless legion knowing of their customs, and decided to provide some new blood many for the surviving forces to mingle with. It was all a show of good will after all, and when they reached her new home, she hoped she would never have to step foot on her ship again. Till then, might as well enjoy her command a while longer.

Commander Urgo stopped in front of his forces, turned around and gave Viola a half bow.

"Thank you for your hospitality Lady Viola, Sir Reginald. I hope that my forces have proven to be effective and to your standard."

Viola gave him a grin.

"They performed well."

Reginald was equally as impressed by their valor in the face of such dire situations. They would prove to be effective allies alongside his knights. Perhaps he could manage to acquire some as guard for his new world.

"They were admirable, Commander. I believe that House Valor and The Faceless Legion will be fine allies. Your guardsmen should be proud."

Commander Urgo was greatly pleased to hear such.

"Thank you."

From the crowd, stepped out Emile followed by Commander Richell supported by Ervin, still wobbly on the prosthetic legs that the mechanicus provided to her. The lone surviving member of the Stormtroopers beside them as well, right arm replaced with a thin mechanical one, brittle but useable for now.

Viola was secretly overjoyed to see Richell again, that she managed to survive. She was a good commander that had served her diligently for all these years. And Emile… they had lost Eli. She knew it likely hurt Emile deeply, and though she and Eli were not nearly as close, she still cared for him as a valuable asset. He would be missed, but he did his duty as a Space Marine.

"I am sorry for your loss, Emile. Eli was a good Space Marine of the Oath Marines. He will be remembered."

Emile gave a nod, having come to terms with his young brother's decision. In the end, he focused on the mission and did not allow for distractions, knowing full well that Emile was the one best suited to command the forces. He would be remembered indeed.

"Thank you, Viola."

Ervin hardly even flinched as he saw Viola. He had forgotten she had sent him on the mission to die, and she was hardly the scariest thing anymore. Besides, he had something more important to him right now.

All of Violas guardsman stood in attention as they saw their beloved commander. Richell still leaned against Ervin, but pulled up her hand to press a fist against her chest.

"We successfully accomplished our mission, Lady Viola."

Viola looked over to her, noticing the metal legs that she now had. She flinched ever so slightly at the sight, but pressed it away. She did her duty as well and that was all that mattered.

"You did well, Commander."

Commander Urgo looked over to Richell and Ervin. He felt a kinship with them, for he guided them through the bowls of the hulk and to safety. He was disheartened thinking that they had died when communications were cut, but upon hearing that they survived was even more uplifting. That they managed to survive was fit to be among the many stories of the heroes of the Faceless Legion. He had wanted to meet them since, and this was his chance. He was already getting old, and though he had brought much to his family's name, he had forgone making successors. Though these two, Ervin and Richell would certainly be fit to carry on his family's legacy. So he turned to Viola for his preposition.

'Lady Viola, if I may, I have grown quite attached to these guardsmen of yours. I am already old, but if you would see fit, they would certainly be welcomed within the Faceless Legion with open arms. I have a need for successors of course."

Viola was surprised. So he asked her before she asked him. She had hoped that she could give Richell a final thank you, a way to escape her fate as a guardsman. The softness she had nudging her to do something for her, after all the loyalty that was provided to her by Richell. But, she still had to save face.

She glanced to Richell.

"Well, I believe it would be best. I don't have much need for a broken commander."

Ervin gripped his hand into a fist. Inquisitor or not, he wouldn't let anyone talk in such a negative way about Richell. He already made it clear that he would stand beside her through thick and thin, and he wouldn't let anyone talk so badly about her.

"She is not broken. She has served you faithfully through everything, and she is still here able to continue her service. You cannot..."

Richell knew what Viola was doing. She always had a way of keeping face, and it made her happy to know that she looked out for her. She would likely never remember that they were sisters, but that she was able to be by her side for so long made her happy. But it was time to let Viola go on her own, and for her to look forward to her own future. She elbowed Ervin to stop before he said too much and got himself shot. A hand on his shoulder so that he looked at her and saw her face. With that glance, he understood and stopped. Richell was thankful and looked over to Viola, a hand on her chest as she bowed.

"I understand. Thank you, Lady Viola. I hope that I have been of use all these years. I would openly accept the invitation, Commander Urgo."

Viola genuinely smiled.

"Very well."

She looked at Richell's companion, almost not recognizing him due to the Stormtroopers armor he wore. He was the one she sent to get killed off. Well, despite his little rebuke towards her, he was better than the last time she saw him. Good thing she sent him, she supposed. Take care of Richell, voidsman. The Stormtrooper behind them giving the faintest of bows, something that the Stormtroopers never did. They only stood in attention and took orders. Seemed this one was burned out from the experience. Ah well, he survived the operation.

"Well then, I hope the best for you Commander Richell. And Commander Urgo…"

Urgo listened closely as he held a hand to his chest.

"Yes, Lady Viola?"

"Take care of them. And more than that, I hope that the rest of my forces can find a new place within your ranks."

Commander smiled from beneath his mask.

"Of course."

It was then that the Magos made his appearance, passing by one of the trees and entering into the room. All of his forces bowed to him, the skiitari seeing him as ascended for what he had managed to do with the Dark Age Ship. They knew not of Angel, and so could only imagine that the Magos managed to start and power the ancient machine. For such an action, he was truly blessed by the Omnisiah himself.

He moved through the crowd and met Viola and Reginald in the center. He turned first towards Commander Urgo, thankful for his assistance in this operation.

"Commander Urgo, your forces were instrumental in acquiring our prize. You and your legion have proven yourselves once again. Thank you."

Urgo gave his usual sign of respect with a beat to his chest.

"As we will always."

Then the Magos turned to see his two newest allies, staring at him as they no doubt attempted to analyze him. Despite his massive form and the reverence his forces held for him, they were unfazed. What he had come to expect of them.

"Ah, we meet in person at last."

Reginald looked the Magos massive frame. He was the one who would help rejuvenate his house, and with the procurement of this ship, perhaps be instrumental in forwarding it. Still, he would keep his caution, as was always necessary with the Mechanicus forces.

"The same. I must say, I am surprised that you managed to bring the machine to life. It must certainly have a powerful machine spirit."

Viola gave a glare towards the Magos, a wide grin on her face. Though she didn't doubt it, she decided to tease the Magos a little.

"You don't have anything hidden do you, Magos?"

The Magos tried to mimic a laugh, something that was as grating as it sounded, though he did not care. It was amusing and he was in a perfect mood.

"Of course not. I am glad to see that you and the High Lord will make useful allies. And your child will certainly be worth anticipating."

They then halted in silence as they stared at each other again. Though the air was hardly tense, and it seemed that a mutual understanding had been met. The Magos was genuinely excited to show someone else the treasure he had discovered and prepare for the next step forward for their alliance. He broke the silence.

"Very well then, shall I begin the tour?"

Reginald gave a nod.

"We will follow your lead, Magos."

The Magos then remembered about the techpriest he had sent to their ship, and whether he had accomplished his task.

"Ah, but before we go, might I ask you what has become of my Techpriest?"

Viola sighed.

"He and Verdun hit it off of course. They are currently preparing to be transported to your Exploritor vessel now."

The Magos was pleased.

"That is good. Come then, let me show you the magnificent treasure which we had acquired."

Viola and Reginald followed behind. Viola with a turn towards the forces she brought with her onto the ship decided to let them loose.

"We are secure from here. Please, mingle with the Faceless Legion and be sure to make good impressions. Otherwise, you know the penalty."

With that they continued along, her forces beset by the young Legionaries of the Faceless Legion, unwilling to let their chance at finding someone go by. A chance rare for most among these stars.

The Magos, Reginald and Viola finished their brief tour of the Dark Age ship in no time at all. It was a small ship compared to the many of the Imperium, and even its rooms were open and disregarded efficient use of space. Thousands of mechanisms and various rooms which baffled all of them, from living greenhouses to what appeared to be research rooms. It truly was a treasure, filled to the brim with knowledge for them to use. They all knew it was best they head to the Schola sector as soon as possible, and hide the ship on one of the worlds, keeping it from the sight of the rest of the Imperium. As they passed the door that led to the Command Deck Reginald and Viola noticed the heavy presence of Skiitari that guarded it, but chose to say nothing. Secrets were expected of course.

They walked into the single room that was the Command deck, lonely and not as grand as any they had seen before. The Magos walked to the front terminal as he pressed his hand upon it, saying what appeared to be a litany of some sort. In reality the Magos spoke to Angel through a code of ones and zeroes, not a prayer. The command deck booting on as the screens displayed the space outside before them. The Magos looked at it with wonder.

"We have accomplished what he had hoped to do."

Reginald nodded, amazed at the sight he had seen. They were almost as exciting as his own imperial knights, and truly he saw the potential for the future. They would need tread careful of course, but such only made the game fun. Viola too felt similarly, but she remembered one thing that set this entire ordeal off. What they managed to acquire was by far more valuable than what they had originally came for, but she was still curious about it.

"Yes, it is all very impressive. But, I do have a question. Magos, what of the STC that we originally had hoped to find?"

The Magos knew the question would come. But he had hope that such would remain for at least a while longer.

"It is here as well. But, for now I would like to keep it secret, if that is acceptable."

Viola sighed, expecting as such.

"Fine. For now, I will accept that."

The Magos looked to his new allies.

"Then, are we ready to depart to the Schola Sector, my allies? To our own little Imperium, where we rule?"

With two of his servo arms he held them out in friendship.

Reginald and Viola gave a glance to one another and then back to the Magos, shaking the cold robotic hands. They had already gone too far to deny such a preposition, but it hardly mattered. This was something they would not pass up, a chance for a brighter future, even if it was just for them.

"Yes."

* * *

Aboard Violas vessel, Techpriests Verdun and 02 prepared to board onto the transport which would take them to the Exploritor ship. 02's guard stood beside them as they waited for the final preparations. Erina Pendleton too was with them, besides her new soon to be, Michael. He had received the commanders blessing to take her with him, and it was now but a matter of waiting to get to her new home and begin a new life. Her task was accomplished, and she knew that her master watched over her to keep his side of the bargain. With luck, she would start on having a family as soon as possible… perhaps even along the way to her new home. Why, she blushed at the thought.

Erina held tightly onto Michael's arm as they waited for the transport. Micheal felt happy with the arrangement, and he was excited to return home now. Though he was saddened that he was not allowed to participate in the battle which secured the Dark Age ship. But, he managed to find someone with whom to continue his family legacy, and that ensured him a place in the veteran legion. Still, he felt rather protective of Erina, having saved her. To him she was a naïve girl, away from home, and he wanted to provide her a good life away from the torments she had no doubt endured.

Verdun and Argo stood just beside the transport doors, impatient for them to open. Verdun managed to achieve what he had hoped, and soon he would be heading an entire forge of his own. The universe was certainly a strange place with so many variables, if only he was able to decipher the code. But he was handed a perfect opportunity, and he looked forward to it. He wouldn't be a simple techpriest any longer. He would be so much more than that. It excited him for the first time in a long time. Though the Dark Age ship which rested outside was an enigma, one he did regret being unable to enter. Though if he continued carefully among the Dark Anvil, one day he might have the chance to enter its halls.

02 was pleased with the outcome as well, though unlike his new compatriot he had no intention of entering the Dark Age vessel. In his eyes it was no more than an archive of what once was. He looked to the future, and what could be done with it. Still, to have heard that Argo was killed saddened him. A loyal soul to the end, but one well spent.

The doors finally opened as the craft was finalized for take-off. Verdun and 02 looked at one another.

"Are you ready, Verdun?"

Verdun clicked and whistled as his gears turned.

"After you."

02 looked at the robes that Verdun wore.

"We will have to outfit you with the proper garb upon arrival my friend. Are you sure you have nothing else you wish to take with you?"

Verdun looked into the hanger bay, at the walls and the many cables which lined them. The Machine Spirit was saddened that he was leaving, but it knew he would be within comfortable range lest it needed him. Yet still, he had to spend a fair time calming it with 02, until it was ready to continue along. He had spent such a long time tending to this spirit, and he considered his only regret having to leave it. But he was to achieve greater things, and he would be sure to have a capable techpriest replace his position of its caretaker. For now the servitors he automated to maintain its care for the coming voyage would be enough.

"No. I am fully prepared as I am."

02 looked back to his retinue.

"Come along then. Let us head back to the ship."

Without another word everyone boarded, and soon they were off, on their way to the exploritor ship. Erina and Micheal close together as she looked out the glass window, into the great unknown of space. She made it.

* * *

3 Months Later

Reginald and Viola looked outside through the helm of her ship. They had finally arrived in the Schola sector. Violas stomach was already bulged, now six months into her pregnancy. She had become far more motherly than she thought she would, caring about things she hadn't before, not that it changed her sternness much. She sat on her chair as she watched the planet that she and Reginal were to take leadership of before her. Reginald placed a hand gently on her shoulder.

"There it is, my lady. Our new home."

Viola stood up with the help of Reginals as she hugged him tightly, his hands around her waist.

"We made it. Now, let's rule with an iron fist shall we?"

Reginald gave her a playful grin.

"We'll lead them into a bright future. Together."

The two kissed, as the vox communications started to open revealing the anticipated faces of Reginalds Knights who all waited for their beloved leaders return. Behind them at a distance watched Emile, still in his armor, happy at the outcome that they had arrived to. He decided to continue under Violas service, even as she became a queen among the Imperial Knight house. She was his daughter, at least the way he viewed her, and he stand beside her. He doubted that he would ever return to the Oath Marines, but he accepted it. He wished to be here, and he would help fulfil his late brother's dream. In memory of Eli. To keep a universe worth protecting.

In the rotating moon of the sector, the Magos and angel moved the Dark Age ship into one of the most secure places he could. Soon they would construct an entire temple to hide it, and with the help of both the Faceless Legion and the Imperial Knights of House Valor would defend it from any who would dare come. It would be a place where the future was crafted, and advancements could be made. One which was at the forefront of the Magos hopes for the future, having contacted his closest ally, the Supreme Commander of the Faceless Legion to proceed.

His exploritor ship at another world, one of the Faceless legions. Here it landed and all those aboard began their trek home to see their families to report on their latest endeavor. Among them was Ervin and Richell who were taken by Commander Urgo to his estate, inducted into his family. Ervin and Richell wedding one another to continue Urgos line, vowing to stand by one another's side through everything. Ervin her newest and closest Lieutenant. Many of Violas guardsmen who were formerly in her service among those who took them as spouses, equally going to meet their new families, now members of the Faceless legion. Richell's soldiers all continuing to pledge her service, many having left Violas to simply follow their commander. Erina Pendleton, now pregnant, carefully taken by Michael to be introduced to his family. She was happy with the way things turned out, and together with Michael would start anew.

All of them were content with the way that things had turned out. Especially for the one who watched from the shadows, who had long set things in motion. He smiled, hopeful for the future he hoped to bring, waiting for his time to contact the Magos, whom he directed to find the Dark Age ship, and the Supreme Commander of the entire Faceless Legion whom he was dear friends with. Erina whom he gave another chance allowed to live her life as she pleased, having accomplished the task he set for her. The Frontier of the Imperium often forgotten about, away from the major battles of the Imperium at large. Thus many tragedies would befall those worlds inhabited there, but in this sector, they thrived. But this was only the beginning of something much greater, a new story, one that would have to be headed by the next generation. Certainly there would be much tragedy ahead, trials and tribulations to overcome, but they would survive and push on.

End.

* * *

_**Hey there, I see you managed to make it to the end. Thanks for that. Just a heads up that there will be a sequel, following the events of the next generation. It was rather fun to write this one, and I really like how it came out. From here I'll likely put out a few epilogues that go a bit further in depth on some of the characters after the story and set up some things for the next story. The sequel likely going to be a while as I want to have most of it done before I post anything, like I did with this fic. In any case, I really hope that you enjoyed this story and I thank you all for reading it through to the end.**_

_**If you are curious about any of my other work, I already have some published (with more in the works!). Usually I try to finish a light novel every two years, and the third should be on the way. In any case, it would be appreciated if you check them out. The first chapter available for each to read through first if you want.**_

_**The first is titled A Moment of War, the very first book I have published. I'll be the first to admit that it's not super polished, but I think it's a good story for the faults of the writing.**_

**A Moment Of War:** Moment-War-Alejandro-Montoya-ebook/dp/B077G4RV2M/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=Alejandro+Montoya+light+novel&qid=1575771646&sr=8-1

_**The second is Steamking, and it is a story that I put a lot of work into. Unfortunately you can't just search this one normally through Amazon (my publisher) for some reason I am trying to fix. Though you can find it by following the following link.**_

**Steamking:** dp/1986545911/?coliid=I2VQXOVOLL6KOO&colid=1MRJ2T73QSKKA&psc=1&ref_=lv_ov_lig_dp_it

_**In any case, thanks again all for following this far. Until next time, I hope everything goes well for you, and praise the Emperor.**_


	19. Epilogue 1

Epilogue 1: The Next Generation of House Valor

Life went very well for House Valor. Their world prospered and the allies that they had made advanced them beyond what they had hoped. All of the noble Knights that made up Reginald's court able to at last settle down and establish their families once more. The production of new knight suits already on their way, and the procurement of bondsmen to take the ranks of the Armigars and Helvrines already underway. Lord Hector was a valuable asset for he taught many of the new pilots and inducted them into the ways of House Valor. He found himself a world that he could reside and do good, and he ensured every candidate was ready for any battle they would soon face. Lord Hektor even managed to learn and recall all of the traditions held by House Valor and take them as his own. Their new world separated into the many districts for each Lord, headed by the members of Reginald's court. He had tried to get Lord Hektor to take on a district of his own, but he refused, content to be merely a teacher. For that reason Reginald had constructed a large school in the new capital, the district where he presided, that was where all the young knights would come and train to become valued members of their families and further the honor of House Valor. It was a good thing as well, for they produced more Knights than they had ever dreamed of, the industrial capabilities of the Dark Anvils forges beyond even their calculations. Soon, they would have enough Knights to send legions if such was required. The only noble family of House Valor not here on this world, on the moon which housed the Dark Age ship, as its trusted protectors and guardians. The forges which created all off their new suits also on that moon, a useful misdirection that denied too many questions of why it was so heavily defended. His most trusted knight, Lord Varus sure to take excellent care of it.

Reginald was happy with how far his house had come. And he was yet more anticipatory for what his son's legacy would be. Joshua, his and Violas first born. He would be the one to take up the title of High lord one day. His newborn sister, Rosaria, would be the regent which stood beside him. It was a bright future indeed.

Reginald looked out from the balcony of his estate. The tower it was far into the sky as it overlooked the entire city below it, the city of Providence, named such for it was nothing less than destiny that they managed to claim this world. The school at its heart, sectioned off by roads that lead out to every other district. Several small forges besides it, which housed some of the techpriests which maintained the knights. Attached at the back an entire barracks and building of operation devoted to the regiment of the Faceless Legion which served as the schools protectors. Lord Hektor's residence in the tower which overlooked the School. It truly was a beautiful sight, though no more than the family he had with him.

He looked back to Viola who cradled their daughter in her arms as she rocked back and forth on a wooden chair. Though she seemed far softer now, she had hardly changed from the woman Reginald had first known. A strong ruler she was, and she conducted herself even better than he did on occasion.

"It is truly a beautiful sight."

Viola nuzzled her daughter in her arms, as the little girl reached out for her. Adorable she was, and Viola couldn't help but play in to the infant's giggles. Such moments were rare compared to the usual routine of maintaining order and settling disputes with her usual style. Many of the Nobles would tremble before her lest they did something foolish and she caught them, but this little infant in her arms knew nothing of that. She was wonderfully naïve of such things, and Viola adored that in her. Though one day she hoped her daughter to follow in her footsteps.

"Yes it is. I have to say, I have gotten rather use to this position of mine."

Reginal grinned.

"I am glad to hear that, my Lady. And what have we on the schedule today?"

Viola hummed between her words as she looked at her daughter. To think she would be here now, holding one so fragile as gently as this. Ha! She would have never given it a thought before, but here she was. The power she had now more worthwhile than any she had before, not stuck aboard a ship that hopped from one hell to another for a living. Here she had control of things, and the amusement she had with her crew now extended to an entire world. It was far more reserved as well, and the people she had around were those she could consider equal. She didn't regret leaving the Inquisition once, and that she found something greater in her family was still astonishing to her. Her righteous fury changed, from those who dared threaten the Imperium to those who dared threaten them. Ah, speaking of…

"Actually, there was that Inquisitor who had gotten a bit nosy as of late. He is in the kitchen. Don't worry though, I made sure to poison him thoroughly before I came here. I am sure we won't be getting such visitors again soon either, his ship mysteriously warping away without a trace."

Reginald was thankful she kept her edge. They rarely were contacted by the Imperium at large, and even at that it was from signals far too old to have been recent.

"Good. Then how about we go out, a venture to the school to see its progress?"

Viola stood from the chair, still gently holding her daughter in her arms, swaddled in a fine red cloth.

"That would be quite nice I think. Will be fun to tease the other nobles."

Reginald walked over to her and hugged her tightly.

"Then let's go get Joshua. I believe he was training with Emile in the main hall."

Viola chuckled to herself as she thought about Emile and Joshua training. Emile still did his best to remain the old Space Marine she knew, but he had grown to revel in his new life as well. He removed his armor and put it away, now wearing the garbs of the nobles. Viola allowed him to stay on as her retainer, and as a trusted ally to keep close at hand. After her son's birth, he was overjoyed, the most she had seen him in years. It was all fascinating really. But, Emile vowed to be the boy's teacher as he grew up, and she trusted his care to Emile fully. He was now ten, and he would soon be ready for his training as a Knight, Reginald having a new suit designed especially for him. She loved her son dearly, and she too was curious to see what any spawn of hers would manage to accomplish.

* * *

In the grand hall, Emile and the young Joshua stood across one another. Practice swords in hand, with small bladed designed only to cut the tip of the skin on the ends. Joshua breathed heavily as he slumped, staring on at his teacher. Emile could have easily killed him if he wasn't careful, but he was, and he was in full control of his movements. Especially unimpeded by his armor. Now dressed in a large woolen garb, green and lined by white fluff. His massive legs barely held by the leather which made up his pants. A large rope that he used as a belt around his waist, tied several times on its end. A green cloak over his shoulders that he only wore for practice, telling the young Joshua that he could finish if only he left a small cut on it. He was hard on the boy, much the same way he was with Eli, but this time around he could afford to have some leniency after all. He took to the young boy very quick too, seeing him as a grandson really.

"Come Joshua, is that all you have?"

Joshua took several deep breaths.

"I… I can keep going."

Emile grinned.

"Then come at me."

Joshua firmly gripped the practice sword tightly in his hands. He looked at Emile ahead of him, having thought of all the possibilities like he was taught. If there was a way to fight him, he would figure it out. He enjoyed his practice with Emile after all, and it mad his parents proud to see him do his best. He had a long legacy to live up to in his father and mother, something that really started to weigh on his shoulders, but he would do it.

Joshua ran ahead, holding the practice sword low to the ground as he let the edge run across the floor. Emile stood still, watching the young boy's movements carefully. He stepped to the side as Joshua threw a strike, waving his cloak out of reach. Joshua expected as much and intentionally skidded along the smooth stone floor as he made a turn with his hand. He nearly found himself behind Emile, but Emile knew that Joshua would have to resort to such tricks.

He stepped to the side, pulling the cloak with him as he took it off and whirled it around his fist. Then with his other hand he pulled the practice sword in his hands towards Joshua's face. Joshua knew that staying still was already out of the question and so he pushed himself back, allowing the floor to carry him a ways before he swung the practice sword in his hand as hard as he could at the cloth in Emile's hands. To Emile's surprise the little gambit worked, and a small piece was cut as the sword flew by. Clever, if risky, but clever. He couldn't help but laugh.

"Well played boy."

Joshua pushed himself off of the floor, exhausted from his training session today. He still had a whole lot of traditions and such to do though. But he was excited to see the new Imperial Knights that were being made. His father had told him that he was to be a knight one day, and not just any, but the strongest of all of them. He would lead a court of his own one day, and lead the entire world. He had yet to learn of the grander Imperium, and for the young boy, the world was something that was beyond even his scope. Though he knew of the other worlds which were tied to House Valor. He had to, his teacher Diana Richte just as strict as Emile was. That she was a retainer of his mother's didn't make things any easier. All he had to look forward to was his visit with some of the other nobles children, as was customary of the noble houses to ensure that House Valor maintained itself as a unified whole. He was still young though, and he had a whole lot left to learn.

"I… huff… hope I met your expectations."

Emile walked over to the boy, whom he towered over by a good many feet.

"You've improved. Surviving one ordeal however just means you'll have to survive another that's even more dire. I hope you're ready for the next phase of training."

Joshua sighed.

"O-Of course… Emile…"

From behind them came Reginald and Viola, little Rosaria sound asleep in her arms.

"Ah, done already I see."

Joshua was happy to see his parents as he stood as straight as he could manage. He had to remain proper after all.

"Not until Emile lets me leave…"

Emile gave out another hearty laugh, something he had done a lot since he put away his armor.

"You did well for today. I'm sure that your parents intend to take you to the school today after all."

Viola grinned.

"Still as perceptive as ever, Emile. Thank you for helping train our son."

Emile gave her a small nod of his head.

"It is my pleasure, Viola."

Joshua got excited to hear about the school. He had been waiting forever to get a chance. That was where he would spent much of his time once he came of age. And more importantly, it was where he would be bonded with his own knight.

"Were going to the school?"

Reginald knelt to reach his sons height.

"Yes. Today we're going to meet with Lord Hektor, who will be the one who guides you in your path to being a Knight."

Joshua couldn't wait.


	20. Epilogue 2

Epilogue 2: The Lost Children

The Magos had gotten used to roaming about with his chassis. Ever since they returned with the Dark Ship and enshrined it within the Omnisiahs Cathedral, he had desired to move about. The little Angel had spurred his spirit to action, and he delighted now in merely exploring the ship itself. For it seemed every day held new secrets. But his greatest endeavor yet was currently under construction in the deeper sanctum of the building, in a hidden forge he did his best to maintain secret. For now, even those of House Valor would not know. In time he would show them, but not until they had begun the working prototype. The STC was intact, and now all they needed was to decipher its construction. Such a precious artifact that was the result of a long forgotten research, the Dimension Project. A way to escape the endless cycle that was this universe and begin anew, be damned the universe they leave behind or not. As was promised to him.

Of course, only his most trusted and loyal techpriests were allowed within, and even at that he had them under tight control parameters. The doors which led to the sanctum hidden beneath several layers of secrecy, and under constant watch by a specially made sect of Rustalkers he commissioned specifically for this purpose. In the shadows they wait, patrolling constantly to ensure that none other than he enter the chamber until the destined time it was completed. Work would be slow as they acquired the proper materials, and those assigned to its creation was unfortunately kept to a minimum. The Magos already computed and ran thousands of simulations. This was the best past forward, and he would do nothing to tempt the hand of fate against him. He would control all those variables he could.

Today though he hadn't needed to think much on that however. He had a promise to fulfill today to Angel. The poor machine spirit disliked that it would not be able to roam the stars for what would likely be a long time. Angel knew the reasoning why to sooth its discomfort, the Magos worked on perfecting a unique techpriest, one which was not to the normal standards. He had created many techpriests in his years but this one became one of his favorites. She was a young woman, kind and gentle, the perfect candidate for caretaker. Taken from a healthy stock in the nearby world. He made sure to leave the majority of her organic parts, adding the barest modifications as possible to maintain her natural human form. He did add to her two mechanical wings that sprouted from her back, and several circuits which ran along through her spine and into her brain to help with increased communication functions. He had also made sure to instill her with the most adequate medical knowledge and equip her with the most advanced medical tools at their disposal. She was the 101st techpreist that he had made, but simply a number would not do for her. She would be called Mercy, for she represented a divine mercy which had been granted upon the children still contained within the Dark Age Ship. She talked freely with the Magos, seeing her modification and selection as a divine will, having a deep faith in the Omnisiah. Something that was also very favorable. He made sure to keep her as separate from the other sects of his forge, as to maintain a saintly nature, for that is what he made her to be. The entire cathedral that held the Dark Age ship a sacred place, one where only those he deemed worthy were allowed to enter. It was as much representation as it was efficiency. All who were allowed within its presence were those of proper personality, and were modified to have wings of their own. Resemblance of angels, a deific being that he discovered in ancient texts aboard the Dark Age ship. Angel seemed to adore the figures, and given their holy nature, he adopted the form to use as a means of holy might. Not anyone could simply view the cathedral of course, and he had to give good reason to limit access to those outside. Such a holy place could not have simple techpriests and servants, no, it deserved holy acolytes of the Omnisiah itself. Mercy was simply one of the first of many, of which he intended to begin production of. Their temperaments and personalities so carefully selected so as to be comforting to the naïve Angel, whom they would have the very honor of speaking with. But only Mercy would be the caretaker of the lost children, the call sign he gave to those children still in their suspension pods aboard the ship. But not for much longer, for he finally found the means by which to free them.

It had taken him and Angel several dozen attempts to access the blocked files that were harbored deep within the spirits memory. The Magos had to even connect himself to the very frame of the ship, an experience very unlike those times he had to connect to any other machine. But they managed to uncover the process by which to awaken the children safely. The pods still useable afterwards, something he would take to great effect later on. For now though, he had to only think of the children and their safety so as to fulfill his promise to Angel. That they would be able to hopefully explain the time they came from was merely a positive outcome in addition to those parameters. The illnesses that the children had very easily curable with slight modification, and several tonics which were already known. Something he was sure to have Mercy prepared to administer and treat. All that was required now was for the process to begin.

The Magos walked through the sacred chamber of the Dark Age Ship, held within the massive hall built deep into the moon's surface. Massive statutes of the Omnisiah acting as the support pillars that lined its sides, a series of many walkways that lined the roof which led to small places of gathering where prayer was held. The floor made of a shining bronze metal that gleamed in the light of the thousands of candles which lined all along the space. Several large pillars which surrounded the Dark Age ships entrance, the same vault which he had first entered through. A vibrant red carpet which created a path up to it all the way to the very entrance of the cathedral, up the nearly ten thousand steps that one had to traverse to reach the bottom. Skiitari dressed in white garbs and outfitted with the newest of materials, patrolling in set intervals all around to ensure its safety. These particular Skiitari forces made special for this task, the elite of the Dark Anvil only second to the Rustalkers he had guarding the secret project.

Behind him walked Mercy, her hands held tightly in prayer as she bowed her head. Her white hood over her head as she walked along. The Magos able to detect the many litanies and prayers she spoke, careful with every word. Good.

"Mercy, from here on you shall be the caretaker of the lost children."

Mercy finished her current prayer before responding.

"Thank you for this blessing, Magos. I will not disappoint you."

They were nearly to the entrance by now. The Skiitari along the sides bowing in their presence. There were many different aspects of the Omnisiahs teachings, and more were added all the time. The existence of the children a fact that he had kept entirely secret, only revealing this to Mercy after her completion in ascension as a saint. He knew that it would be inevitable for some to learn of the children, such was the unpredictability of young human's nature and therefor he needed to find a means of explaining them away. While creating Mercy, he found the perfect means to do so. As a priest of the Omisiah, any children Mercy would have would then be considered holy as well, and give credence to their residence within the ship. So, the Dark Age ship would be a place where the children of saints were kept, and allowed to grow as humans in the grace of such divine surroundings. Those able to convene with the Machine Spirit of Angel, and hopefully become loyal adepts of the mechanicus. Not that he would force such, but he intended upon furthering the children's education on such important matters.

"Mercy, you are to disclose the reality of the lost children to none. Is that understood?"

Mercy bowed her head even further.

"Yes Magos."

They came to the entrance.

"And you will be expected to bear children yourself, for it is why I allowed such biological functions to remain in your frame."

Mercy accepted such as her duty.

"Of course Magos, with the next saint which you produce. To further the sanctity of this place, and as representation of the human forge, the ability to create not only machine with metal and wire, but with flesh and blood by our own capacity. For such is the duality of the mechanicus, both machine and human. I accept my tasks diligently Magos."

The Magos was pleased. So they continued into the ship, greeted by the holographic form of Angel. The spirit was excited for today, knowing that the children would be revived.

"Magos, I see you have arrived precisely as you indicated. Thank you for your haste."

The Magos held a servoarm to his chest.

"But of course dear Angel. Let me introduce you to the caretaker who will watch over the ship and be the one who helps you maintain the ship. This is saint Mercy, my latest modified creation."

Mercy could heardly contain her joy at seeing Angel. She fell to her knees in prayer as she said several small prayers in code. Angel deciphered them easily, finding such reverence as odd as usual.

"It is good to meet you, Mercy. I will log you into my identification network as a permanent member of the crew."

Mercy kept her head down.

"I am humbled by simply your presence, holy Angel. I know not if I am worthy…"

The Magos shook his head. She would do best not think such things.

"You are a product of my creation, Mercy. That alone makes you worthy. Now stand, it is unbecoming of a saint to kneel. You will respect Angel, and you will be the machine spirits closest ally along with all other saints that I create. Understood? Your selected mate soon to be joining you as soon as I find the proper personality type. Now come, let us begin the preparations."

Mercy stood up, still in awe of the physical machine spirit before her. To her, she was the most blessed of all in the Mechanicus of the Imperium, aside from the Magos whom had ascended to deity with his securement of the Dark Age ship. For all of the Dark Anvil saw him as a holy emissary of the Omnisiah. Together they walked through the halls of the Dark Age ship patrolled by the white garbed Skiitari. The door closing behind them as was procedure. The Magos going to great lengths to ensure that those whom knew of Angel were limited. All that were aboard were listed within Angel's memory as members of the crew, and were forbidden from leaving. The Skiitari aboard allowed to reproduce among each other so as to keep the ship completely contained and maintaining a healthy environment that Angel preferred.

They were followed by the Skiitari that patrolled the halls, all of which were acquainted with Angel already. They were all curious to see the procedure for themselves, but they knew their place as defenders and would stand aside lest it was what was expected of them. In no time at all they found themselves at the door to which held the children. As much as the Magos had hoped to see the process for himself, he knew that his current form would be a shock to the children. So he had the much more pleasing Mercy enter instead, barring entry to all the Skiitari outside who stood in attention around the door. He instead followed Angel into the command deck where Angel ahd already opened the terminals and a screen to the room with Mercy and the children.

"Is it time Magos?"

The Magos nodded his head.

"It makes me happy to see you so excited Angel. Yes, it is time. Begin the procedure."

Angel smiled before it vanished, several dozen processes flashing across the terminal screen as the awakening procedure began. The quiet chants from the skiitarii outside echoing in harmony with the mechanical hum that came from the mechanisms around the room. He made sure to take an image of each screen as it flashed by for later reference, another set of his auspex focused solely on the feed from the room.

Mercy anticipated the children's awakening as she stood before the first pod. Of a young girl with her hands clamped as if in prayer. The pods shining for several moments as a red light scanned down the children's bodies, and then a serum of some sort injected into the necks of each through a previously unseen needle behind them. A liquid draining from the pod as it emptied into somewhere below, the pods clicking one at a time. The first to finally open was the girls, as the door swung upwards in a swift motion. The girl nearly stumbling forward, only to groggily open her eyes. She still clenched her hands tightly together, stiff and sore. She was very confused, her head throbbing as her head spun. Though it came back to her, slowly as she recalled what had happened before she was put into the stasis chamber with the others. Still, she was perplexed, unaware of things as her eyesight blurrily returned. Only to see the winged figure before her, like the angels the captain told her about.

She spoke, but Mercy did not know what she said. It did not matter. In time they would all learn to speak the language of the current age. For now Mercy simply held out a hand to the child.

"Good morning, little child of the lost."

* * *

_**Perhaps there will be an entry or two about these lost children, adrift in a time far from the one they originated. What was their situation to be? And how would they react to such a different universe, surrounded by those who have augmented themselves and pray to a god of machines? Would they learn of the terrible truth of the grim dark reality beyond, or would they be kept naive and ignorant, hidden away? Who is to say...**_


	21. Epilogue 3

Epilogue 3: The Next Legion

The worlds of the Faceless Legion are unlike those of many other regiments. Rather than the massive hive cities, the endless battlements and fortresses, or the sprawling industrial complexes, they maintained much of their natural aspects. Forests and mountains, large oceans, vast living deserts and diverse biomes still in existence and healthy. The world separated into various cities where the populace lived, built with materials brought from off world to use as little as the worlds resources as possible. These cities connected only by narrow bridges that rose over the wilderness outside the mighty walls which surrounded each. A barrier between the wild and the civil, the many houses and estates inside built into massive sprawling complexes that maximized efficient use of space, interconnected in a grand system. The populace within each limited to their surroundings and growth, rarely in too much abundance of people for most were sent off world as Legionaries when they came of age. Those that remained either part of the world's garrison or tended to the various duties and tasks necessary to keep the cities active and productive. Most who weren't part of the Home Guard were dedicated to the production of food with which to maintain their stocks. This was all done on purpose, for the Faceless Legion wished to preserve their world as something worthy of their name, the wilderness outside a perfect place for which to train the many legionnaires that were produced and sent to conflicts elsewhere. The populations of vicious beasts and monsters maintained, the various creatures of the world both the perfect training tools for the young and good sources of meat. The worlds intentionally kept beautiful, so as to remind all that this was the world they fought for, and the one which was promised to their families as long as they held the line and served faithfully.

The cities themselves were divided into districts. A single center district surrounded by twelve smaller ones in a circle. The districts made up of Legionnaire Houses, families that have persisted through generations as members of the Faceless Legion. The Houses differentiated by the honor and status of their members. The more soldiers, commanders, generals and war heroes that any given family had, the higher the families position was within the city. The family with the most honors and respect allowed residence within the center district, while the other major families and the smaller ones allied with them, ruled the surrounding districts. The districts forced to regularly work with each other, the heads of each family considered a single unit of themselves when called upon by upper command, and acted as council of the city. The chief member of the Household at the cities center the highest ruling authority among them. Though this did not fully prevent the animosity between Houses, which eagerly disputed the others on matters of honor and worth as members of the Legion. All houses pined to be the Head of the city, and went to great lengths to ensure they were able to move toward that goal. Thus many children were born and trained by their families in the hopes of honor and fame being brought to their house. Others used for political alliances and to act as agents of the family, usually as servants in another House. Only the most adequate sent to the special institutions which trained the Faceless Legions own brand of Commissariat, a high honor indeed. The politics of the houses a complex and unique one, for while there was not physical violence between the houses, subterfuge and political games were far from uncommon.

Commander Urgo knew all of this of course, as he was the Chief member of a cities center Household on his home world of Honorus IV. A unique name to say in the least, but his home none the less. His house, The Legions Shield, represented by a shield with the face of a beast, was the longest living on world. The first that colonized the planet for the glory of the Legion. It was a prominent house and once he had many family members, but as was inevitable, many died. Unfortunately he was the only one to return home, his brothers and sisters all perishing throughout the years on assignment leaving no heirs, his parents and other older members dying of old age not long after. He was the sole living blood member of his family now. The only others that lived in the center district being the lesser Legionnaire House, The Gryphons who had served under his for hundreds of years. They were always the bulk of the Legionnaires he took with him on all his operations, including the one where they secured the Dark Age ship. But, he was still just one man to represent an entire Legionnaire House, and like the others he too was destined to die.

He focused for so many years solely on his own honor and status that he forgot the base principle of maintaining the family blood line. He brought such honor and glory to his house, but with him as its only member it was a hallow victory. It was to the point that after he died, the houses beneath his would likely fight among each other to take claim as the new center Legionnaire House of the city. Commander Urgo preferred to be swift and heavy handed when dealing with such foolishness as infighting between the lesser houses, but he knew full and well that when he was gone he would be buried with full honors, praised by all, and then swiftly replaced. His house left to fade into the history books. Such was always pushed to the back of his mind however, as he focused all his attention on his assignments as any true commander should. Such was the case when he took on the protection of the Magos during the operation to receive the Dark Age ship. Yet, what originated as merely another mission became a saving grace for his House altogether. When he met Commander Richell and the voidsmen turned guardsmen Ervin, he found a way to settle the political troubles he had here and reestablish his house. They managed to survive within a Hulk without any hope of survival, and contributed to the securement of such a monumental asset. That they were not of any Legionnaire house made it all the easier to bring them into his, so as to not show any favoritism to any of the lesser households. This was his sole motivation originally, but now that they were here, he found himself enjoying the passing of time while he was home. He had to admit that it was nice, having others than the estates servants around. That there were children which carried his family's legacy brought joy to his heart. It reminded him of his younger days training with his brothers and sisters. That Commander Richell brought many of her guardsmen with her was a major asset that truly bolstered his house as well. He had to admit that he was getting old, and he wouldn't be fit to remain within the Veteran Legions much longer. It was time that he passed the torch.

Commander Urgo sat on his rocking chair as he looked down at the estate courtyard below. He allowed all of the cadets within the center district to be trained here, under his watchful eye to inspect the future. Richell was the one who trained the new recruits, including her son Erin. She was a fierce commander who would not take insubordination lightly, and that made her a perfect fit for training the young. That she continued her duty even while pregnant with her second child was a mark of that. Her husband, Lieutenant Ervin observing the older cadets on the other side of the courtyard. He had become an excellent guardsman, and he took the time to learn all the tactics and traditions he could from the library in Urgo's estate. Ervin's knowledge of how to use a vox was very useful in special training for those that would become vox carriers. Ervin and Richell were also very close with one another, and they were a force to be reckoned with. The other houses had little choice but to accept them and couldn't dispute them taking on Urgo's family name and title. Though there certainly was talk in the shadows and animosity over it. Urgo knew that this was the best option for his house however, and disregarded such trivialities as the lesser houses discomfort. Richell and Ervin were essentially the children he didn't have, recognized by the Supreme Commander himself as Urgos own, a mark of recognition no Legionnaire House would do well to disregard.

Urgo held a hand onto the stone railing of the balcony and stood up. He might as well spur on the cadets while he was here.

"Be sure to train well cadets, for the honor of this house will be in your hands!"

Richell looked up to Commander Urgo. She gave him a smirk and a salute.

"They'll be ready perhaps in several years if they survive."

The cadets all breathed heavily as they continued to run from one barricade to the next, timed on their swiftness. All of them ten to twelve years old. Another group of Cadets of the same age group on the other side with lasguns turned to a mercifully low setting, as they fired at those that ran. Richell's son was one of them and he was an excellent shot. This exercise was one Richell had to go through when she first became a guardsman, though the ones that failed exceptionally in her case were sent to the front lines as shields. The exercise was to get the cadets used to the idea of death being commonplace, and that despite your best efforts it was not always possible to avoid. When such was accepted, then they could divert their attention to doing what they could to survive and finish the mission. This is what Richell hoped for them to learn and did her best to drill. If one was destined to die, then they should die meaningfully.

The cadets on the firing line trained their marksmanship and used the experience to get used to the idea of live targets. As they grew older, it would be beasts from outside of the city that charged at them during training, and they would have to be precise to survive. Of course at this stage, the exercise was done in shifts to get all the cadets a chance to be on both ends. The Faceless Legion had a special emphasis on comradery as well and so Richell made sure to always influence such things when she saw it, putting down any discord with no mercy. Above all, the will to live was what she hoped for all of them to take grasp of. They were still children, but they would grow up to become Guardsmen, and she would prepare them for that reality.

"Come on guardsmen! Don't give up! Push on and make it to the firing line! Death is not an option, you hear me?"

The cadets who ran the gauntlet between barricades did their best to respond enthusiastically.

"Yes Commander!"

Erin, Richells son, grew a smile as he reared the lasgun in his hands. Though he was only ten years old, he had given everything to be as good a guardsman as he could. He trained on his own with his mom to learn how to fight and his with father to overcome ones inherent weakness. He was proud of himself and he would be sure to make his family proud. After all, uncle Urgo had high hopes for him. He fired his lasgun in quick succession knocking down several of the cadets that ran towards them. He silently praised himself, hoping to break his previous score. That made eight already! The other cadets had mixed opinions of Erin because he excelled, and that he was the son of a prominent figure didn't help. Not that they voiced this, nor did Erin care. Something that could come to bite him in the future, but he didn't think of that now. He simply did his best to excel, leaving the others behind him if it so required.

On the other side Ervin looked at the row of older cadets who saluted him. He had taken to the training position well, and though he wasn't as experienced as Richell he did his best to present to them the lesson he learned during his experience on the Hulk.

"Listen up cadets. How many of you are ready to die in the face of combat?"

The cadets looked at one another confused. Ervin always asked them questions after they ran, and they knew that a wrong answer meant they continued to run. Still, not saying anything was worse over all. He would sometimes even run with them, his bionic legs allowing him to completely outrun all of them and stay ahead while he asked again. The worst was when he tempted them to outpace him so they could stop, something that was very difficult to do. So, slowly one by one they all raised their hand in reply to indicate that yes, they were. Ervin only shook his head at this response.

"Then I suppose you all deserve a run to think about that. The moment you willingly accept death as an option you are already dead! Strive to survive, and to keep the guardsmen beside you alive for each one of you who is alive makes your chances much higher. You fight to live and to succeed. If you do not fight hoping to live than you are as good as a shield ready to be pushed ahead for those who do behind you. Death comes for all, understand that, but don't just let it take you. Fight to live! Now hurry on! Ten laps around the estate courtyard and when you are done I expect a different answer!"

The cadets only obeyed the order, even as exhausted as they already were.

"Yes sir!"

Many family members of the cadets all watched from the sidelines just away from them. It was almost time for the older cadets to be given the Carapace armor all new legionnaires were given, something that they would hopefully return to their families upon coming home from a successful campaign. The most elite of them to hopefully be inducted into the veteran legions. Such costly and precious armor necessary to give them the largest chance of returning home and bringing honor to the family. It was an important ceremony that was held before the young cadets were formally inducted into a regiment within the Legion that would be assigned their first operation. A smaller subset of the cadets would be picked for Home Guard, those that remain on world as its guardians and garrison. Both were incredibly important and respected positions, but all the cadets knew that there was more glory in being assigned off world. That the home guard were essentially family security to ensure the bloodline wouldn't die off did also sour the position for them, if only slightly.

A glance was shared between Ervin and Richell as they looked across the field at one another. A happy smile between them, for they had become neigh inseparable over the years. Both of them letting go of the pasts which haunted them and embracing their current lives. Though they both still thought of the people they left behind. For Richell she was content knowing that Viola managed to find a way of life that suited her, even if they were destined to be apart and that she would never know about their shared lineage. Ervin had to let go of ever finding his brother, letting that past fade away to be replaced with his future.

* * *

In another district of the same city, someone else looked on to her future. Erina sat at the windowsill of her snug little, five story house, with servants at her call and a whole family of people who adored her. A respected member of the Legionnaire house represented by a Winged Saint, The Legions Heart. She was readily accepted into Michael's family with open arms, and that she was pregnant when she first met them made the fawn over her. Michael too was a good man, who took to being a loving husband well. He was forced to take a more political role in his family rather than getting his chance to enter the Veteran legions, but with time he came to accept it. Erina was glad too, for he was a good father to their children and h did all he could to keep her comfortable and happy. She too helped out with the politics of the city, using her gifts to great effect. In her own secret ways, she managed to pull strings and make things quite beneficial for her new family. Her gift thankfully skipped over her son, though her daughter seemed to possess the same ability. As such she was careful to teach her how to use it and to never tell anyone, her daughter a lovable and sweet child who was easy to nurture. The one she still grew in her stomach uncertain whether they would inherit the gift as well. Already on her third child… she had to admit, she derived a lot of pleasure from having children, and she wondered how many more she would be able to have. Oh, and how the servants of the house tended to her with such care…

She was a good mother, doting on her children as she was never given the chance. A better one than her mother ever was, curse her soul. That this was the world of an Imperial Guardsmen regiment, she had to accept that her son at least would be a guardsmen and likely die in combat. Something she dreaded, but that she accepted none the less. Her daughter allowed to forgo the Legion and be accepted as a political member of the house as she got older, allowed to live a more civilian life as a high member of the family. In that vein she did all she could to educate the both of them on everything that came to mind, acquiring all the resources and help she could for her new, wonderful family.

The head of the family was a proud man named Stanton, Michael's father. He was a rather stern individual who was one for tradition. He was easy to play around, since she knew all about him through his thoughts, as numerous as they were. He was just as fascinating as Michael was, though Stanton served nearly twenty years as a Guardsmen. Something very rare that brought much honor to the House. Honor the most important thing to that man. His wife, Lady Mira, a former commissar of the Faceless Legion. She was surprisingly much more joyous and excitable than Erina had anticipated, being very giddy of her and her children. As for Michael's brothers and sisters, almost all of them were still away on military operations elsewhere. When they returned was uncertain, and it was apparent that Mira didn't think they would return. Such a sad thing. Perhaps that is why Mira so eagerly talked with her, even if she treated her so naively.

Michael's eldest sister, Michela, was the only sibling of Michael's who remained on world. She was the commander in charge of training the families' cadets. She didn't have a husband or any children of her own, but she was a decorated veteran of several years. Her father and mother constantly pressuring her to settle down while she was in her prime so as to give more blood to the next generation, a discomfort that Michela often shared with her. A close friend she was, who took the time to come and visit. Her son Riley, spending a good portion of the day with her and the other children of the family, preparing for life as a Guardsmen, a legionnaire. It amused her to watch them, the children so small acting like soldiers.

She usually watched them from the window, as she did now, while they trained. Today they attempted to fire at humanlike targets on the other side of a field, which fired back if they didn't take the chance or if they missed. Sometimes it would just fire back regardless. Her son struggled to hold the Lasgun in his hands, as it was a full sized version, and missed the target only to be nearly shot in return with a non-lethal charge. The poor dear, he was woefully behind the others in skill. He stumbled to the side, nearly falling, and caught by Michela who gave him an earful as she pointed him back to try again. It was a good life, and she didn't give much thought to her master's plan for the future. But it would come to pass, she was certain. She would simply do as he asked and just live her life, knowing she was a part of something greater.

* * *

_**I want to apologize. The previous upload of this epilogue was admittedly rushed, and not nearly as clean as I have written before. Simply for the sake of getting it out on time. Thanks for being honest and calling me out on that, and hopefully this rendition is much better and polished. I took the time to re-edit and clean this epilogue today, so no epilogue tonight. In that vein, there will be one more epilogue uploaded and then this fic will be complete. Perhaps in the future I will add some other short snippets of the characters, but I would rather focus on writing the sequel. The final epilogue may or may not come out tomorrow, as there are a few things I want to iron out about it, but it will come out soon. The epilogues something I decided to add after uploading the last chapter, and I still have to finish writing the final one.**_

_**Anyhow, thank you for reading this far, and until next time, I hope you have a good day or night or whatever time it is for you. **_


	22. Epilogue 4

Epilogue 4: The Forgotten Psyker

That Psyker, Ceres, should have died. He was destined to, preplanned, and tragically required to be eliminated for the sake of the future he saw. But of course, those pompous, those arrogant and foolishly prideful Eldar had to ruin it. For the sake of pulling their own cosmic strings. To selfishly tug on fate to force it into their benefit. How such long lived creatures had no sense of...

The hooded figure simply sighed. No. In truth he was no better. He would go to such extreme lengths as this to ensure that what he designed for the future was what would come to pass. The future he had been working towards for so long. All it took was the simplest of missteps or changed variables to cause catastrophe, and so he took every measure he could. He had thought that talking with the Craftworld Eldar beforehand would at least dissuade them from fecking with his plans, but it seemed they ignored his warning. He already destroyed all of the Dark Eldar that dared even come near the sector. He turned the Faceless Legion into such ferocious hunters of their kin that they stopped appearing, and he made sure to leave no survivors to send a clear message to those opportunistic slavers that the sector wasn't worth the cost. They were supposed to be the hard ones to convince, and it took the lives of thousands of their horrid, putrid ilk to be crushed and sent to the hell they made for themselves. Every soul stone was broken, shattered and tossed to the wind, every intact body burned and held at the stake within their very ships before raids. Their vessels tossed into space and left adrift with traps to destroy those that tried to reclaim them.

Needless to say, the Dark Eldar had long since moved away for easier prey, and those that did attempt to come again were promptly dealt with and destroyed. But the two Craftworlds that floated along this sector of space, despite all of it, decided to act against him. For all of the hatred he had towards those particular Xeno, he would have preferred they simply minded their own business. But it seemed the temptation of self-preservation was too much for them. Farseer Luthwin, whom the figure personally met with, would answer to this grave mistake for turning his back on this promise. It surprised him, for the Farseer allowed the demise of the Dark Elder to pass without repercussion, a decision that somehow seemed difficult in the xenos eyes, despite his utter disdain and disgust of that sect. The figure should have known that it was just another lie, as Eldar were known to make. All Eldar were above everything else in the universe, that is what they all believed, and the life of just one of their own was worth the entirety of worlds. Such arrogance! They forced his hand, and now it came to this.

Ah well, he would show them the gravity of such decisions swiftly, for it was far more than apparent the reality of the matter. They did not know what he was, and in truth he hardly understood it himself. But he was a force on par with their extinction, and if they so much as tempted him, he would bring it to the current day and time. He cared not for their souls, they deserved to rot in the belly of the great thirster, tortured and tormented for all eternity. Such was the punishment they built for themselves, and so eagerly attempted to forgo.

He took a deep breath as he leaned against one of the many metallic crates of the transport he waited in. He had already killed the crew, their blood splattered along the walls and the floor. Limbs and armor tossed to and fro. It was a mess really, and not nearly as clean as he usually did, but the bastards refused to die. Their very souls tossed up and down in his right hand, the three soul stones bright pink as they glowed helplessly, trying to fruitlessly get into his head. They were just the beginning. Today was a special day for this particular Craftworld, for today they were going to link with their sister colony, in the cycle they have repeated every hundred years along this sector of space. A perfect example was to be had, and he would make it clear the gravity of their mistake.

The door to the transport opened as several Eldar walked in, momentarily shocked by the sight before them. Only one of them was of the warrior cast, and was the quickest to react. The others being regular workers likely sent to get the cargo. The figure crushed the soul stones he held in his hand as a terrible screech emanated from them, the souls lost to their fate. The very event giving pause to the terrified Eldar before him, something they hadn't felt for a long time, genuine fear. Who was this intruder? How did they kill the crew of the transport? How could they possibly get onboard? The soul stones… how could they crush it? Ha! Like they had much the chance to think these things. The Eldar were incredibly fast, physically powerful and with incredible mental capacities, but the figure did not play by their rules. To fight an Eldar successfully was to stoop to their level or suffer death, for there was no honor in it if one wanted to survive. So, before any of the Eldar had even a chance to ponder, they were already dead. The sole member of the warrior cast held by his broken neck, pressed against the wall of the transport firmly by the figure. He did not wish to play around today, and he would not humor them. Certainly, he would waste an incredible amount of energy, but he was willing to do that. The Eldar would die.

He forcefully ripped off the soulstone from around the warrior's neck, throwing it to the ground and smashing it with his boot. He hated the chaos gods, all of them. But of them all he especially hated that lustful demon the most. Today though let her feast, for it was on the souls of these foolish Eldar.

* * *

Farseer Luthwin was paranoid, anxious and uncertain of the current day. Emotions that one so far down on this path should not have. He had warned the rest of the Council to not take lightly the vision that he had had. Well, vision as far as he had told them, but his run in with that enigma deeply troubled him. The promise that he made was broken, and he had no hint towards the consequences. Despite how hard he tried to glimpse into the future. He was the head of his Craftworlds Council, a prestigious and powerful position that demanded and earned much respect from all. But even that was not enough to overcome his brethren's desire for glory and the reaffirming of their races dominance. Thus, he relented to allowing such a monumental mistake unfold, as they changed the weave of fate once more.

His Craftworld, Te'Fa, was one which had always relied on the sight of the future to drive its decisions. A curse which almost completely destroyed them on countless occasions, only barely allowing for them to escape, and often with sacrifice. For every weave they changed within the warp, every future action they plotted and performed, destiny changed. They tried to command the very whims of fate, to determine their path ahead of them by force and strive not in the present but in the future. This was no life for they pursued only endings. It was a task that was impossible to contain and comprehend, for every action caused surprising reactions responded, and far too often ended in more dire consequences than expected. All it served was to worsen the reality around them, to make the universe a murkier place. The actions taken that were based on future sight often helped their enemies more than themselves. While they would survive, the state of entire systems and sectors would be changed, immeasurable threats and unintended boons provided to those that should not have had them. If Humans were killed, then Orks took their place, and vice versa. If tyranids were diverted to another system the hive grew from its feast. If the Imperium was damaged so was the buffer which distracted all the other races from the Eldar. Such were only basic examples, and the reality was the Elder hardly benefited from any of them.

It was unnatural, and it only barely benefited them, a dying race, by letting them live but a while longer before they had to do it again. Last cycle, they had killed a rogue trader who was destined to kill a small crew of Eldar warriors that were destined to venture out on a quest to seek an old relic. What this resulted in, as he and his fellow Farseers later saw, was the Ork presence increasing in the sector nearly tenfold, which would cause several ships of Eldar to be destroyed. Or they would have been, had they not then assassinated the local warboss to prevent such a rise of power. Only for a stray tyranid hive ship to locate the part of the sector they were in due to preventing the Orks from accomplishing a mishap which would have resulted in the hive ships destruction. They then had to change fate once more to ensure that an Imperium trade ship was targeted instead by the Hive Ship, which got the entire team of Rangers assigned to the task killed. Such was an unacceptable fate and so the cycle continued. Over and over again as they risked more and more lives, destroyed them, to ensure their interests were the priority. The greater ramifications of which uncared for by his fellows, leaving the universe so much more twisted.

It was utter madness. For the sake of one or two lives, they chained themselves to the ever changing winds of the universe. His fellow Eldar wanted to believe they were still in control of it all, that they were exempt from the current reality which surrounded them. But they forgot that they were no longer the dominant ones, they were relics of a long lost past. That his brethren were arrogant enough to believe in the superiority of their lives in such a large and uncaring universe, was an affront to their previous glory. That a single Eldar life was worth all this risk and the distortion of universe was pure arrogance. Tough decisions had to be made, and survival was what mattered, not superiority, not pride, not some false preservation of their past glory, one that they had brought an end to themselves. If one or two Eldar had to die while leaving the rest of them intact, without the Craftworld being affected, then so be it. Their ancestors failed them, and this was the result, a dying race that wanted to believe itself perfect and destined to reclaim what was lost. He knew that was impossible, no matter how much they tried to see into the future, no matter how much they changed and altered, they were trying to fight the whims of fate, _fate_, itself! There mere existence an affront, for even in death they were running away from a destiny they created themselves, to be consumed by the demon their forbearers brought into existence. Such was not easy for him to conclude, that the universe did not belong to them anymore and it never would lest they continued to be so foolish. He simply wished for the survival of his race, and if that meant forgetting the time of before, that was worth it. They would become something else, something not chained to this crazed desire so sought after by the rest of his race.

He wanted this particularly for those of his Craftword. Hence why he allowed those foul mockeries of Eldar, those barbaric and disgusting cousins he cared not to remember to be slaughtered. A decision not easily accepted by the rest of the council. Because they were simply Eldar, they asked him to instead allow the Dark Eldar safe passage and protection while beside the Craftworld. Despite the disdain all of them held for their vile kin, that they merely held a glimmer of Eldar left within their putrid bodies was enough to warrant their survival as equals. Was this what the Eldar race was reduced to? That they would allow such dark stains upon their collective soul to persist, and still call themselves superior? An entire sector of their race more in common with the foul daemon they so desperately tried to escape was accepted, whether it was begrudged or not, was a reality all Eldar seemed to ignore. Their once great race devolving into the very same practices that doomed it. To preach their perfection while ignoring the rot which seeped from their races heart was arrogant! To preach that they were destined for the stars when the reality was that they were struggling to survive, was arrogant. Ah that dreadful word! Arrogance! The bane of their existence! Even the humans, the Imperium of Man were easily capable of destroying them all if they were not careful. Such a simple and aggressive race they were, but he would not deny as his brethren did, that they populated this universe and not the Eldar. It was theirs.

The appearance of another stirred in Luthwins mind. He opened his eyes to break away from his mediation as he looked to the young Yoriel who bowed before him.

"Farseer, your presence is requested by the rest of the council. They await you in the Councils Sanctum. It seems that our sister Craftworld is nearly done connecting with ours."

Luthwin stood up from his pleasant little garden, the place he always retreated to meditate when he had troubles. It allowed him to tolerate the incessant urges of his fellow council members, particularly those who had chosen the path of war, for they were always the most vocal. He knew that his place as the leader of this Craftworld was challenged, for his soft and weak nature they so quickly labelled him with. Such was only a deflection from the real problem. That they disliked that he presented the truth to them. They often refused to listen to his advice, despite their honorifics and 'pliteness'. They especially refused to accept his demands that his Craftworld stop being lured by the falsehood that was future sight and to actively live, not slave themselves as servants to a determined future that was every changing. Ah… he lost himself far too easily to these bouts of thought. He looked to his young apprentice, still politely bowing before him.

"So, the time for the meeting of councils has come once more. Has Farseer Altoria already arrived to greet us? She is rarely this late…"

Yoriel seemed disturbed but didn't reply at first. What had happened?

"Yoriel, tell me what is wrong."

She looked up at Luthwin, afraid to answer for she knew that he disliked such problems. But if she didn't say, then he would simply derive it from her mind. She wasn't yet capable enough to block him, much to her frustration.

"W-Well… she has not contacted us. In truth, Farseer, we have had no contact whatsoever from our sister Craftworld. It has been… silent."

Luthwins heart nearly stopped, a deep and troubling pain in his chest. Silent? No… that couldn't be. There was something terribly wrong here. He held firmly onto his staff as he pushed himself up. He rushed ahead, past Yorial who followed behind him. He knew that something was ill omened about today. Farseer Altoria never missed an opportunity to talk with him, and it was troubling to hear that nothing had been heard from the other Craftworld at all. This was not the normal way of things. That their sister craftworld continued to connect to his was beyond abnormal. He knew that something was wrong, but what truly frightened him, was that he didn't know it exactly what it was.

Yoriel saw the worry and fear that Luthwin felt. He exuded those emotions without much care to suppress them, unbecoming of a Farseer as far as Yoriel saw it. Luthwin was always so free with his emotions, far beyond even the normal Eldar. But still he was her teacher and she had grown attached to him. That he seemed so distressed on this day of all days though, did not set well with her. Had he seen something?

"Farseer, did you have a vision…?"

Luthwin pushed on down the hallway which led from his chamber into the council room. His mind was focused on other matters currently. That he had no premonition was troubling, but he did not wish to rely on such things alone. He simply knew it that this time calamity was fast approaching, deep in his chest.

"Yoriel, what are the other Council Members doing about this?"

Yorial was annoyed at the ignorance of her first question but answered regardless.

"They are waiting for you, Farseer, and have already attempted to reach out to our sister Craftworld with their minds. It has not worked. And so, the Phoenix Lord decided to send many of our Aspect Warriors to investigate… "

Luthwin pushed open the two massive doors which led into the council room. There he found all the other Council members stood in a circle around the Moon Sphere in its center. The relic which allowed them to share the visions one had with others. The thing which chained them to their search for the future. The Phoenix Lord of his Craftworld's Aspect Warriors, Yuule, was not happy with the perceived lateness of his arrival.

"Farseer Luthwin, It seems you have finally graced us with your presence. Now, I am sure that Yorial has already informed you of our current dilemma?"

Luthwin nodded as he turned to the Moon Sphere. He touched it, pressing psychic energy into it as he attempted to see a vision of their sister Craftworld. Unfortunately nothing came.

"Yes. Has our sister Craftworld already fully joined with ours?"

Yuule turned his head away as he looked to the screens which displayed images of the areas where the wraith bone opened up to accept their sister colony, only to reveal no life on the other side. Where there were usually thousands during this day, not a soul was present. What had happened…?

Yuule tried to contain his emotions as he looked back to Luthwin, determined to understand what was going on. Luthwin for all of his misgivings always gave them accurate visions, but this…

"We had divined that this was the proper day to meet again with our sister craftworld. Yet, this is clearly against all that you had said. I have never questioned you before, Luthwin, but now I ponder if your ability to see the future and connect with the warp has been deteriorated. What…"

None of them expected what happened next as the screens flickered. Static buzzed along them until a new image was displayed. A hooded figure sat atop a large crystalline structure, a white mask over its face. It seemed human, but something seemed to dissuade that conclusion. The corpse of Farseer Altoria held by the figures left hand, her mask broken and shattered to reveal half of her face. She was killed swiftly, a single hole through her chest that seemed merciful at worst. Thousands of Soulstones behind the figure, scattered all along the floor and in piles. The figure was within the innermost sanctum of the Craftworld, where… where all the souls of the dead were held. What was… no… Luthwin recognized the figure. It was the enigma from before. The one whom be had broken a promise with.

"You…"

The hooded figure took a deep breath before tossing up and down a single soulstone in its hands. This was the soul of Farseer Altoria who called out to Luthwin, only for her voice to be violently silenced as the stone was crushed in the figures grip. Luthwin reached out as if to grasp her, but he knew it was pointless. Her soul was gone and devoured. Worse, was that he knew why this had happened...

The figure took a deep breath as they spoke up in a clearly male voice.

"You broke your promise, Farseer Luthwin. I'm disappointed."

Luthwin felt daggers through his heart. He hadn't foretold this. Not even a glimpse. None of the future seers did, and yet here they were. When the Council wished to make a decision that would break his promise to this enigma, he wanted to make sure to know what would come for them. They saw nothing, and so he relented. Still he had felt bad about the decision, and knew something was wrong. But... to see that this was the result.

"We didn't foretell this…. How?"

The figure sighed, agitated.

"I told you, I am separate from the warp. And guess what your precious insights are gifted from? In short, I am an enigma, I technically exist outside your scope. You simply can't tell what I am going to do."

Yuule and the other council members could not believe what they were hearing. Least of all that Luthwin knew of this… this thing.

"You knew about this entity, farseer Luthwin? And you did not tell us?"

Luthwin would not be blamed solely for this.

"No, I did attempt it. But you all ignored my warnings. This is where our future sights fail us…"

Yuule looked to the figure before him. As long as he breathed he would not forgive this sleight against the Eldar. This thing clearly had help. It had to have in order to overcome the might of an entire Craftworld.

"You did not kill all those Eldar. You stink of nothing but Monkeigh! Now where is your master so that I may kill him after I kill you!"

The figure shook his head.

"Such arrogance! You think yourselves so important in the face of an uncaring universe? You are but another animal fighting for its survival, definitely different than all else sure, but with the same goal in the end. You can pretty yourselves with all the justification and pretentious arguments you want, you can scream to the heavens that you once ruled these stars, and you can assure yourselves that you are more, but the universe will not listen and it will not bow. In the end you do the same as the humans you so easily disregard. You so easily point out all the flaws you see in others, but are quick to deny your own. Such flaws nothing but biased constructs placed upon others whom have taken a different path than you. Those which to you, shockingly happen to exist alongside you. You just can't bear the thought of it can you? Being on the same level as all other creatures of this existence, be it an Ork or a human. Can you?"

Yuule would not have this insolence! His warriors already marched into the ship and would no doubt find this figure before long. He would have him dragged before him in chains, within mere fractions of his life. Then he would have the pleasure of killing this inferior being with his own hands! To have such a pompous attitude as to deny the Eldar their rightful destiny was nothing more than nonsense!

"Be quiet! You…"

Yuule found himself paused once more as the figure grabbed a soulstone from the pile beside him. The spirit of an Eldar resting peacefully, safely stowed away from the foul one. The figure had guessed such a pause and took the time to press his point further.

"Look at you all. So desperate to live forever, that you trap yourselves in these little crystals. To drag the restless dead and use them over and over again. You run away from your debts, and from the problems you have caused ignoring an entire swath of your history. Yet despite it all, I would have been content with simply leaving you alone to wither in peace. But here we are. You strictly attempted to hurt those that I have chosen to care about, and for that reason, punishment is in order."

Luthwin would not bare to see another soul devoured before his eyes.

"Please, listen to me. Why punish us? Why do you care so much for those humans?"

The figure crushed the stone at the mere implication of Luthwins words and grabbed another.

"Oh? Because I do. Sure, they are foolish and often self-detrimental, but you know what? I like them regardless. They have the potential to do so much, and the lives they live are so much more interesting than your boring slogs. They can be so much more than this universe allows them, and I will see to that. Besides, I picked the ones I liked, kept them in a specific sector, and had _specifically_ told you before which ones I cared about. But that you rescued that dying Psyker from the reach of space, you have caused me a whole host of problems that cannot be undone. He made it back to the central Imperium and none from there were to know of the sector I have claimed. Before this little screw up of yours, the absolute minimum would need to die. Now, it is inevitable that death will be plentiful and the anvils of war to be struck in the future. I cannot control fate, and I did not intend to do so, but when you directly cause the infinite web in such a way that it causes so many problems for me, I cannot ignore you. And for what? Tell me."

Luthwin didn't want to admit it. The answer would surely not go over well.

"That…"

Yuule spoke up again, confident and rigid. He had just received word his warriors would soon be upon the damned daemon. For that is what this surely was.

"To save the life of an Eldar! My son. If that monkeigh psyker was left to be killed in space, fate determined my son would follow."

The figure shook his head.

"And all of this death brought on for the sake of one, single life? What a waste. But, I cannot blame you for not wanting your son to die. Then again, perhaps if you didn't insist on sending him to war he wouldn't have had the chance to die would he?"

The screen faded out as a massive and powerful quake rocked the entire room. The entire Craftworld knocked out from its determined orbit as its sister colony began to implode, taking all inside with it. The places where the craftworld Te'fa were connected ripped apart, the wraithbone shredded and torn. This allowed the vacuum of space to begin sucking out its innards. Like a wounded animal it bled, thousands upon thousands of Eldar lives lost to the warp, their soulstones crushed by the sheer force of debris and pressure difference. Thankfully for Luthwins craftworld, the wounds sealed off quickly, closing off in time to save as many as possible. But the number that died far outnumbered them still. The lights that once illuminated the council room flickering on and off. Between the shadows the figure appeared in the center over the Moon Sphere, only to be swiftly attacked by Yuule. His son was one of the warriors whom he had sent onto their sister Craftworld, and he was overcome with a potent mix of grief and anguish that drove his actions. He would not admit nor accept that this was in any way part his fault, believing fully to the end the superiority of the Eldar race.

He lasted much longer than any of the others, managing to nearly strike the figure. But the figure did not play by the rules, as the Elder often did not, and blinked away in a blink of the lights. Only to reappear behind Yuule and stab him through his chest and armor with a large sword. The tip shoved deeper and deeper through his flesh and organs, as Yuule tried to force it out of his body. His hands pressed firmly on the blade, blood seeping rapidly out of him. When he realized he could not, he instead tried to grapple the figure behind him, but he did not last long as dark chains from the darkness wrapped around his neck and snapped it, his life fading away in mere moments. Now only Lutwhin and Yoriel left alive in the entire council's sanctum. Luthwin pushed Yoriel behind him, the poor young one scared, more than she had ever been before. She was unable to feel anything from the figure, as if he didn't register at all. She could see him, but her mind felt nothing. She felt nothing but the primal terror that beat in her heart. Luthwin was an incredibly powerful psyker, but even he did not know how he would fare against such a fearsome opponent.

"Please… I beg you …"

The figure leaned forward, breathing heavily as he looked over to Luthwin.

"There. I have rid you of all the obstacles in your way, Farseer. Now you can go forward without this foolish pride pressuring you. Be sure to take this mercy in kind. I had to use far, far too much energy for this. Haven't been this tired in a while really…"

Luthwin didn't understand what the figure was doing. What did he mean…?

"You… you didn't plan this… did you?"

The Figure shook his head.

"Don't be an idiot, Farseer. You still caused me more trouble than you understand. But, I… I could not bring myself to completely destroy you or the rest of this Craftworld. Part of me is sentimental I suppose. The children are the next generation, Luthwin. Be sure to raise them well, and rid yourselves of the pride that plagues your race before it kills you. I made it easy for you to do this, so take my mercy as it is. Just know that if I ever get wind of you even pondering to betray me again, be sure that next time not a single soul will be spared. But then again, the choice is yours, isn't it?"

Luthwin was at his weakest point. In the end he ended up as another piece in the mechanisms of fate. Perhaps this was simply judgement for all the times they had forcibly altered it. What would he do? Fall to his pride, to his races pride and submit to this figures will? Or accept the mercy he was given and survive. His body felt weak, and for once his powers did nothing for him. He fell to his knees, dropping his staff onto the ground.

"I… submit. Never again will the Craftworld of Te'Fa interfere with you again. We will survive on our own away from here."

The figure sighed.

"Good. Live on, Luthwin. Live a life worth living, and forget the past that chains you and your people. But that is only advice, and you can do what you will. As a living being with sentience, the choice is yours for what you decide to do with this reality you have been given. Now, I just have one last question. Where did you send that Psyker?"

* * *

Ceres was adrift in space for so long. When he was ejected from the Inquisitors ship he resisted death, and pulled as much air about him as his powers allowed. It managed to buy him time to survive, as a limited shield that surrounded him in the uncaring emptiness that was space. He was beaten and bruised, nearly on the verge of unconsciousness. He was destined to die, surely, and it was at the plotting of that witch. He failed to reveal her, and he knew not what that would cause. He had fallen into a deep sleep and would have died had the small cloaked Eldar ship opened up its doors and took him. From there, he was fitted into a stasis pod, and transported away. He did not see any of this, too weak to open his eyes, and his powers carefully regulated by his saviors to ensure he would not be possessed. He was healed and taken care of, as an Imperial vessel was 'acquired'. They left Ceres alone within, still in stasis, for another Imperial vessel to find him. After which, to cover their intentions, the Eldar attacked the arriving ship as if they sought Ceres. Almost the entirety of the crew slaughtered save for a small select few who 'escaped'. Ceres taken with them as an important asset, for if the Eldar attacked them for his discovery then surely he was important. Then the Eldar manipulated the little cargo ship off course, and away towards the destined place provided to them by their Farseer.

It was here, on the other side of the Imperium that a battlebarge, the Judges Seat, of the Oath Marines Chapter encountered a small battered little ship adrift in space. Being a chapter that cared for the protection of the Emperors people, they quickly recovered it and discovered the remaining crew. They were told a tale of an attack by the Eldar after finding a ship containing a single astropath on board, within a crude Stasis pod. The Oath Marines would not sit idly on this discovery, for their interest in Ceres was piqued. They spent months finding out how to revive him, and the day they did, Ceres found himself in a strange room, alive. Many medical machines grafted to him to allow him to function, as he looked at the 21st Captain of the Oath Marines, who looked to him from his seat.

"We have many questions for you, psyker. Worry not, we will not force you now. But be ready for when you are able to speak."

Ceres almost cried tears of joy, for the Emperor had come through and he was alive and well. Ready to fulfill the task he had thought he failed. He forced himself to speak, despite the pain that jutted through his body.

"The witch… there is something in the frontier. Something…"

The Captain of the Oath Marines stood. It seemed he had found his next assignment.

* * *

_**I apologize that this chapter took a bit longer to come out, but I wanted to iron some things out. But here it is at last, this fic is finally complete.**_

**_The Eldar are a very interesting race of 40k, one that has a lot to it. They are so proud of themselves and have the ability to do so much, but at the same time they are still a dying race adamant to remain relevance. I am sure you can gather how I view them from this chapter, and I have to say I am curious whether you agree or not? Either way, hope that it brings some amusing thought._**

**_As a final note, wherever you are, I hope that _****_things are going well for you. Happy holidays, Merry Christmas and all that! Will be a new year soon, and I hope the best for ya! _****_Thanks again for reading this story of mine, a passion project I have had for a good while now. Glad to have shared it._**


	23. A Guardsman's Purpose (Side Story Pt1)

A Guardsman's Purpose

(Part 1)

What the hell was this universe? This existential nightmare that he existed in? Lost, trapped in an endless war, stagnant and unforgiving. This was the world, no, the reality, that Argus was born into. Despite not even realizing it, not until… how long ago had it been? He was born on a planet, deep within the realm of space known as the Frontier of the Imperium of Man. Ruled over by a galactic government of epic scale. Things he didn't come to understand until he was whisked away, and dragged into the maw. His life was simple once, calm and peaceful too. He had friends, work and safety. Things he didn't know lacked literally everywhere else in the galaxy. Sure, he knew they lived in a universe that was bigger than his own planet. But not much else was important, so he thought. He lived in what was one of the saner worlds, a colony of only several thousand years far away from the Imperium's capital. The cities were simple, the space port the most unique thing of any building on world. Sure, he belonged to an empire known as the Imperium of man, a galaxy wide empire or whatever it was, but that was far as it went back then, that's all he and everyone else needed to know.

On his home world, _that was as far as it went_. They served under the glory of The Emperor of Man, a mysterious and godly figure presented to them with massive statues and by the authority of their government. They traded with local planets for resources, communicated with the greater Imperium, and understood the ludicrous history of their empire. But it was his home world's government that handled all of that, not the normal citizenry like himself. His history more about his world than that of the greater Imperium in which he lived. It was just simpler to learn, he figured, than an entire galaxies worth. He was born and raised by caring parents, brought into their trade as warehouse workers. He didn't need to know anything else.

Overall, it was a simple world, and a simple god damned life! But he was forced to come to realize that he really was just a bug, _no_, something even smaller, when compared to everything else. His planet was just a single fucking dot on a map full of the bastards. Enemies at all sides, including traitors, aliens, monsters, and whatever the hell daemons were supposed to be. All of these things, he never knew about, should never have had to. His home world's government handled all that, were the ones who had to know about it. The people needn't worry themselves with such existential horror. No, live your lives in god-damned complacency. But he liked his complacency! He liked his simple job, working as a warehouse worker. He liked his friends in his housing block. He liked that everything was so simple and didn't have the threat of death at every turn. As it did now. His whole world was upended, and he didn't even know how long it had been since. Yet he still remembered the day he was torn away so clearly.

A massive ship, larger than he had ever seen before descended from the sky and came down. It drew everyone's attention, everyone outside their homes to gaze up into the sky. The local authorities started in high alert almost immediately. Nobody knew what was going on, well, save for their government. Their world was nothing more than a warehouse. On a planetary scale, its people seen as nothing more than the workers who maintained it. All the stores, the eateries, the housing complexes, the entertainment venues, their monetary system, were secondary to keep the populace going. The Imperial Guard, they were told, had arrived. The Imperial Guard were here, the Government officials said. They had come back.

Yet, who the fuck were the Imperial Guard? Nobody knew. Well, save the government. It was a surprise as they were told they were the soldiers who fought on behalf of the whole Imperium. Glorious figures full of praise. Such an army was on a scale that he couldn't comprehend at first. Something, he damn well would come to. The government had their planetary military line everyone up, in such a drastic change of authority that he had never seen before. Overnight his world was shattered as it became dystopic. Many were pulled from their homes, and lined along the streets going towards the space dock. Escorted by soldiers the entire way. Those of the older generation, woman and children all forced to remain behind as all the young men were funneled out into long lines. Nobody knew what was going on. How could they have known? How could he have known?

He talked with those ahead of him, those behind him. Nobody understood. No one knew what was happening. But they had faith it was ok. They would be ok. They had to have that faith. They just had to. But such faith eroded away as they got nearer and fear spread. Fear of the unknown. Even he himself became a worried mess as his heart pounded. Soon they saw men in greatcoats and strange hats. The Aquila displayed proudly all over their person, on badges, on buttons, on their boots, everywhere. They saw strange robotic men, moving from one place to another, lifeless as if the walking dead. Men in white robes atop pedestals as they prayed loudly over the procession. And then finally, when enough people were crowded into the building the doors shut.

Argus was at the very back of the group, he saw the doors shut behind him as the light from the outside faded. He could have escaped, continued his simple content life, but he didn't. As the doors shut, he was pushed to watch a massive stage, where their planetary governor and his associates stood. They wore cloaks and attire strange to them, entirely different than what they usually saw them in. Besides them were more men in bigger flashier outfits, headed by another taller man with a pointed hat, a Commissar he would later learn. A sword in his hand as he held it high in the air. The reality was, he was being drafted.

Yes. Argus found himself born in one of the unluckiest times of his planets history. It certainly was a world designed to store mass products and goods, but it held a secondary, darker purpose. Every thousand years a ship would come, and then a tithe would be payed, a tithe to the Imperium of Man, made with bodies. This was all hidden by the government, some sick twisted deal to keep his home world's way of life as it was. Or was it always so grim and dark? He didn't know.

From that day onward, they no longer belonged to themselves. They were all soldiers now, in the glorious emperors unending war to hold the tide. They were told of the truth, the reality of the Imperium at large, of the monsters and horrors that sought to destroy humanity. As if it was a gospel. _A gospel_! A prayer! Oh, how glorious it was that they were expected to sacrifice their lives for the good of a galactic empire, for an emperor none of them had even seen or truly knew. To fight things that they didn't know existed up until then. Sure, some tried to escape, Argus thought about it too. But then the Commissar, he started shooting. He made it clear, all who ran would be labelled traitor, and shot. They didn't belong to themselves anymore. They were the emperors. So through fear it was, that Argus stayed. He only now wished he had run, tried to escape and be killed.

Perhaps it would have spared him from all this. But, what bothered him even now was how it was all hidden away, the truth concealed by the government he knew. The Imperium seemed like such a better place, but he now knew it as nothing but lies and propaganda. The thoughts of a traitor, sure, definitely. But he didn't ask to be born into that world, at this time, end up in this place. No. This was not what he wanted at all, but the universe didn't care, and never had.

It all happened in a single night. He and the others were loaded onto the ship, provided their flak armor, helmet and other equipment. Including Lasguns, the weapons he had spent hours on end stocking before, now in his hand for a different purpose. Perhaps he should have questioned why he had to stack so many of them in the warehouse he worked. But he knew it was because he could choose to ignore it. No, he was dressed as a soldier in all but one night. The veterans who still remained aboard the ship all but stared through them as they were paraded onboard. They were all hardened, cold and cheerless. Some laughed, some seemed sympathetic, but most only stared lifeless. They weren't provided rooms, only sectors of the ship in which to stay. He was assigned to a company, the 101st Silver Company, and told to remain on a certain part of the ship. As it turned out, his home world had already provided enough bodies to fill a hundred before this one, and they all were wiped to the last man. Good luck for the 101st, the veterans said, they never lasted long. They were the human shields, the ones they sent out to plug the enemy's weapons with blood they chided. That first night was a long one, as he found himself wander the strange, cold, oppressive and unusual spaces of the ship. He and all of his fellows lost in their own depressed states. They simply laid along the halls and empty compartment rooms, where strange hoses and pipes and wires strewn all about them. Watched by the men who were assigned as their commanders, trained and prepared elsewhere as professional killers. Leaders of men, they toted themselves. Still did, the bastards.

Have your one night to feel sorry for yourself, they said. Tomorrow we train you into proper soldiers. Tomorrow, you become the emperor's anvil. No one knew what that meant, but they would find out. Though the night was full of gunshots, bursts of violent red that illuminated the darkened walls, as those who could not handle it killed themselves with their newfound weapons. I overheard a veteran say it was the ritual aboard the ship, a recruitment vessel, to give all the recruits lasguns on their first night. So the weak would kill themselves before they disappointed their company. The next day nothing but hell, hell, as they were grouped into squads of ten men and ordered by their slave masters who called themselves officers and commanders. Every day after they were the only ones who stayed the same, as new members would come and go into the squad with every exercise and with every routine. It was clockwork at first, every day, as the squads were rounded up by their officers and drilled. Argus learned quickly, the insane loyalty that the officers held towards the Imperium, towards their god emperor, how hardened and stoic they were. Killers with authority, zealous and vindictive. Every day, they repeated sermons for he and the others to repeat. They told tales of humanities fight against the enemy. Kill the xeno, burn the heretic, suffer not the traitor. For the good of humanity, we were nothing but weapons to hold the line. To die for our emperor, fight horrors we could not imagine and simply accept death. Death. Death! Death!

Argus was on the verge of breaking. He saw many others lose themselves to their duties their spirits broken and their personalities wiped away. Others became zealots themselves and joined the commanders. They prayed and announced openly the cause of their great newfound purpose! Oh how disgustingly glorious they saw themselves. Others could not hold their minds together and were promptly disposed. The 101st Silver Company were not meant to be logisticians that was the 85th Iron Division. They were not to crew vehicles and planes that was another division. They were not to be turned into servitors to replenish the ships stock that was another division. They were not to become commanders that was yet another division. They were the rank and file, whose only job was to take orders and die when they were told. The illustrious Imperial Guard, members of the Patchwork Regiment of the Recruitment Ship called simply The Maw.

He watched as it picked up tithes of soldiers from worlds all across the imperium to be made into a single force, acting as if it was a unified whole. Like a parasite that latched itself to worlds to bleed it of its people. Later he found out, The Maw got its name because those whom it recruited were never actual soldiers themselves, they were always bottom of the barrel, completely untrained citizens to be molded by the ships own regime, touting itself as its own regiment separate from the worlds that he learned only produced soldiers. They provided the bulk to protect those who were more important. It was all too much, and at some point he wanted to kill himself too.

If it wasn't until he saw a glimmer of hope, a single ray of light that he found he allowed himself. In a training exercise they were placed in competition with guardsmen of an entirely different regiment, who temporarily stayed aboard their ship before deployment. They called themselves the Faceless Legion. They were different than all he had come to know and expect. Scary and imposing, they didn't say a word. All of them wore masks that covered their entire heads, with long coats fixed with gear. Even their commanders were different, one of them having an arm replaced with a mechanical one, and all of them mercifully silent. They were trained killers yes, but they seemed to at least regard their own lives with sanctity in how they treated one another. The exercise lasted less than a few minutes, with his side on the floor in spasms from the low power setting of the lasguns. The real kicker was what he heard afterwards.

The Faceless Legion got the privilege of going home. The lucky bastards! He was as envious as the veterans he overheard it from. Those faceless bastards, emotionless drones, walking puppets, all the bad names they could think of they called them. It seemed like many of the veterans despised the Faceless Legion, save for the commanders who adored them. Argus understood exactly why, the jealousy hard to contain and redirected into anger towards them. They had other privileges too, but he didn't care to listen about that. He learned all he needed to know. Instead of being jealous however, he wanted to join them, get away from The Maw.

As he had come to expect however, he learned that was not to come to be. Not long after the exercise, the members of the Faceless Legion were deployed on some world and The Maw continued on its merry way towards its destination through the warp. To think it literally dived into hell to travel. It still freaked him out, as he could barely sleep whenever they did so. He knew that space travel was a thing of course, everyone did, but he wasn't aware of the severe… measures it took to accomplish that. Not that he even attempted to understand it. They were always en-route to their destination. Always en-route to the battle they trained for. Always, always. Every day they were told they were en-route to their glorious battlefield. Every day they prepped and trained for it. Every day they were told of it, but eventually Argus started to believe it may never come to be.

That was, of course, until today. The day they finally did arrive to their battlefield. Only, he could barely believe his eyes as he looked out the window of the docking bay. None of his fellows could. The world they had come to fight for was destroyed, nothing but barren rock and dust, floating through the emptiness of space. It was here that he recalled everything, _everything_ that led up to this moment. Dumbfounded, and unable to speak as he looked out into the desolate space. He firmly held onto his lasgun as had become his custom. He tried to hold onto the sanity which he gripped so tightly throughout all this time, but it was hard. He didn't know how long it had been since this all started, and now it didn't seem to matter at all. He was pulled away from his life, from his world and from any semblance of peace, for this. His purpose was nothing now, and though the cause for war was one forced upon him, it was at least something. Here, in this moment there was nothing. After all his time staring, he managed to form words out of his mouth.

"It's destroyed. The world we…"

All of the guardsmen in the bay turned as they heard the familiar thumps of their commanders behind them. They all stood in attention as had been drilled into them, and formed in line. Argus definitely didn't expect to see the Commissar walk behind the commanding officers. He hadn't seen him since the day he was drafted, and it didn't seem like he aged a day.

The man walked to the center of the procession, his head tilted up as he inspected the crowd around him. In a loud, proud and pompous voice he announced the reality to all of them.

"I apologize, guardsmen, but it seems your chance to fight on behest of the Emperor will be forestalled. Yes… but worry not! This battle has already been won by the Imperium, and our service is not needed here. We intercepted a vox comm. set adrift in space, and learned that this world was infested by the plague of chaos forces. The likes of which you need not know for now. The world was then awarded with Exterminatus by an Inquisitor, a holy agent of the Emperor himself. A mercy that denied the world to fully succumb to heresy. It was a worthy punishment for such treason as to turn against the Imperium, against our holy Emperor. Now, I am sure that you all have been eager for your chance to serve our illustrious Imperium, but do not fret. We will be assigned another assignment soon, and you shall get your chance. For now, disperse, return to your duties and prepare for when you are needed. That is all. Carry on, guardsmen."

As quick as he came, he was gone, the commanders with him. The guardsmen simply left in attention as they stood there. Exterminatus, he had said. An order to destroy entire worlds? There was such a thing? Inquisitors? Who they hell were they? The Commissar so easily said those things, but Argus did not understand. He had no reference, no idea what those things were. Though as he gazed back to the window, to the broken and shattered planet, he could only imagine. He could only imagine… The Commissar likely knew that most of them wouldn't understand. They were beneath him, and he made that clear in all but a few sentences. Argus couldn't help but chuckle, softly, and to himself. He couldn't risk angering the others, the zealots among them. It was all so funny. This universe just… why did it have to be so complicated? So cold and unforgiving?

He took a deep breath.

"Where is my purpose now…?"

One of the other guardsmen, whose name Argus didn't care to memorize, overheard him. He turned to look at the gazing guardsman, with a head full of desires for glory. He didn't understand Argus plight, how could he?

"Hey, don't worry mate. You an' I will get our chance, don't ya' worry. Soon we'll be the ones breaken' heads an' serving out the emperors righteous anger."

Argus smiled. The fool sounded so enthused, so unfazed at the horror literally outside. The world they came to save, to fight on, was gone. Nothing, eradicated, erased. And it wasn't by the enemies will, it was by the Imperium's own hand. And it was called a _victory_. But he would keep these thoughts to himself. He would play the part.

"Y-yes. Of course we will. The Guardsmen will get their chance."

His comrade seemed content, patted Argus on his shoulder pad and walked away. All of the guardsmen dispersed not long after as they returned to their normal life. It was assumed, as it always was, that when they weren't given orders it was free time. Argus didn't move however, simply transfixed on the sight outside. The crewmen walked around him, ignored his presence entirely. He was back to being but a cog in a machine, one that didn't matter whether he turned or stopped.

He was fully dressed in his uniform, as he almost always was. No use taking it off unless it was to sleep. No way to wash himself or his clothes, only the officers and those guardsmen zealot enough to kiss their literal asses got such privileges. This ship ran like a logistical nightmare when it came to the guard. The ship's crew knew what they were doing, were cared for and provided for, the entirety of them allowed their own sectors of the ship with actual facilities. They mattered more, were worthy of being kept alive. The vast majority of the guardsmen weren't, allowed to simply roam the halls and given quarters in large storage rooms for that is what they were, cargo to be delivered and used. Food handed out at specific points, at specific times, but rarely was there enough and the moment they opened, if you weren't there, it would run out. Not that it was great, slop designed to fulfill all the basic needs of the body and nothing more. No need for taste when it was given to dying soldiers. They only needed the guardsmen healthy enough to fight. When it came to the guardsmen aboard The Maw that was life.

Argus shakily managed to force himself away. To escape the awful sight as he marched back into the darkened halls of the ship once more. He followed his usual route, watched around him and made sure none followed. Not that anyone need worry about a single guardsman. The cameras aboard this section of the ship no longer functional, for he knew what working ones looked like. They always watched him in his warehouse way back when. Things were always run so much smoother on his home world, so much cleaner and logical back then. Here it was uncertainty every day. His one single grace was the place he managed to find, secluded from everywhere else.

"Hello."

He looked at the servitor as it snuck up behind him. The things were always patrolling the halls, as they repaired everything. Some sick bastard managed to convince this one to greet everyone. He just couldn't see how some thought it was funny to have a corpse talk. It was horrific enough just having it rove about and act as a slave.

Argus put his hand onto the cold metal shoulder of the abomination. He wanted to shove it away, express his anger on something, but he didn't. Simply, he let go and sighed.

"Hello…"

The servitor's motors churned as its half human head tilted to the side.

"S-S-Signs of depression and i-i-i-immenent suicide detected. A-A-A-Administering emotion suppressants."

Argus flinched as he forgot about their secondary purpose. Not that it mattered, the damn things rarely even had the drugs they hoped to inject. He should know, already tried with several. The servitor raised its arm with a pointed needle, ready to provide its treatment, but Argus only walked away. The servitor didn't follow him, confused probably, as it merely turned back to its route and continued along. Yet, as Argus walked away from it, he couldn't help but feel jealous of that roving, mindless corpse. For while it had no will of its own, it had something Argus did not. A purpose. Every day, it had its tasks to look forward to, and its existence mattered because of it. What did he have? Nothing. Nothing but a hope one day the fight would come and he could finally die. He was, after all, too much of a coward to ever kill himself.

The walk took as long as it always did, though he didn't have a way to tell time. There were no clocks, there was no sunlight; there was only the unsettling patches of light and dark. But, he had wondered the ship for so long that he knew where he was headed, and time stopped to matter. At a dead end, near the darkest part of the ship, where the lights were no longer functional and only the servitors could see, he clambered on. None followed him, and none needed follow. Why see where a single lone guardsman spent his time? He only pushed through the darkness until he found the stray pipe along the wall, in its usual place. He shoved it up, crouched under and then found himself in a thinner hallway. A dim light ahead, that shined through the mess of wires and parts of the ships organs. He maneuvered his way through as he always had, and found himself in the square room he called his own. His one, single escape from it all.

It was a simple room, lit up by the light in its center. The pipes provided heat as whatever ran through them was hot. Here he had his few belongings, those things not assigned to him by the Imperium. On the floor was a cloth he had taken off one of the walking corpses, a crude metal chair on top of it, devised out of spare pipes he managed to find. A bag, hardly standard issue, on the side full of odds and ends he managed to collect on his aimless walks along the corridors. Novelties from screws and bolts, to little figures carved out of scrap. This was his home, where he was likely to die, and he only really left to get food. Coincidentally, that was where and when the commanders would find their squads. A guardsman eats, less they wanted to starve and avoid them forever on this behemoth. A crudely simple system. Argus merely walked over, and laid down as he removed his armor. Carefully he set it aside as he looked up to the ceiling. The light that shined brightly from above was bright enough to keep the room fully illuminated always. He wondered where it came from, why it was here, and how long it could possibly last. But it the end, it didn't really matter. Hopefully, some day he would find his purpose. Something more than this. But he wasn't sure, if that day would ever come. Resigned to this, he closed his eyes and slept.

Thankfully for him, it was soon approaching…

* * *

_**Hey all, been a while. So, first of all, hope everyone is doing all-right with all the craziness of current times. Since I find myself with so much time lately, figured I would add to my fan-fiction. That and, admittedly I feel a bit bad for not posting anything for such a long while, so I decided to put out some extra content while I work on my bigger fic. As for this one, ever wonder where the Imperial Guard ships mentioned at the beginning of chapter 1 went? Well, I did as well and so here this fic came to be. Though as for my main fic, the sequel to my main story is still a long ways in the distance. Got a lot of work left on that one, and a lot of other projects to worry about.**_

_**This fic is more of a side story to flesh out the Frontier, the sector of space all my Warhammer 4ok stories take place in. Something interesting, and world-buildingy. Unfortunately, haven't been able to actually play a match of the tabletop with my Faceless Legion for a while, but writing stories in the universe is just as fun. This story's concept has been something of an interest to me for a while now, thinking about things through the eyes of your average ordinary citizen turned soldier in the Imperium. Rather than the high action, stakes battle of before, here we have something more intimate and tragic I suppose. Either way, I hope you find it interesting and I would be curious to know how you think the average citizen of the Imperium feels, their perspective on the world at large. I mean, really some people will live and die not even knowing that aliens exist or much anything of the greater Imperium as a whole. While I really like the bigger scope and epic scale most 40k stories deal with, I do also enjoy thinking about the small things where maybe its not about a war or the fate of a whole sector (or more often the Imperium as a whole), but on a single guardsman who clambers to stay sane in an insane universe, wondering why. Oh well. This story should be only 3 parts give or take, and I am not putting myself on a schedule for it. More like I will work on it when I can and then post each part when its done and has been looked over a few times. After this, or maybe interspersed between (not sure yet) I also want to do a short mini-fic regarding the Freebootas who live in the Schola Sector and raid the Frontier; another 3 parter probably. These fics will likely tie into the bigger one in a lot of ways, expanding on some events and the ramifications of things that happened previously. Perhaps it will have impact on the sequel as well, though well see. Got these stories plotted out already, but things are always prone to change. Wow, I've rambled a lot. Sorry bout that.**_

_**Anyhow, I hope you all are doing well. I hope to provide at least some content to help stem the tide of boredom for you, and I hope you enjoy. As always feel free to leave a comment or not. If the actual writing aspect isn't up to par with what I've put out before, let me know, tell me where I can fix some things and I will. Alright, take care all, stay safe and take time to relax, occupy the mind with what you enjoy. Also, get some painting done if your into the tabletop. We all know we have stuff to paint to build and all that.**_


	24. A Guardsman's Purpose (Side Story Pt2)

A Guardsman's Purpose

Part 2

Captain Farlo was beside himself. This was a disaster, and his very life was on the line. He had commanded this vessel for nearly four hundred years, continuing his family's legacy as heralds of the Emperors Might. He was supposed to ship soldiers, trained and prepared en-mass to those worlds in need of support. This was his holy, sacred duty. But somehow, in the logistical behemoth that was the very nature of commanding such an enterprising task, something went wrong. After all this time, he had managed to maintain every flaw and every problem to as small as possible. There had been rough patches in the past, but now… his current situation was very different.

Farlo sat in his office, deep within the very center of his mighty vessel. Alone, and in complete despair as he looked at the screens atop his desk. Nothing more than numbers displayed to him, but, that wasn't quite fair. Numbers meant everything in the Imperium. Numbers determined the fates of entire worlds, of entire sectors. Numbers determined who starved and who ate. Numbers determined the amount of soldiers required to win victory against the enemy in war. How much ammunition was supplied, what resources got where, numbers were everything. Without the proper logistics, there was no Imperium. He had always had it under upmost scrutiny before. He had always managed the hiccups in the system, but there was no way to fix this. This nightmare. How had it all started? How did it come to this? He could only think back on it now.

Farlo sat back into his chair as he continued to stare at the screen. He remembered how in his shame, he didn't wanted to leave his quarters since the moment he received that report. All it had taken was a single screw up and now his legacy was on the very brink of extinction. He was in a long line of captains that governed this ship. The Maw, those unworthy cretans called it. No it was the 'Emperors Holy Deliverance'! That was its true name and it did not deserve to be mocked by the filth he currently ferried. Its mission was a holy one that it had accomplished for eons, picking up the tithes of soldiers in times of need to be delivered to important battlefields all throughout the Imperium. He personally had seen the deliverance of Imperial Guard to entire sectors that turned the tide and brought victory to the Imperium. His career was spotless_, spotless_. That is, until he was assigned to this wretched sector of space called the Frontier.

This was farther from the heart of the Imperium than he had ever gone. It was to 'reinforce' the local systems with the support of a transport vessel to ferry troops. Bah! This sector of space was unworthy of his attention, for it was ever expanding, and far away from the true threats of the Imperium. But as a faithful Captain, he complied, he listened to the administorum when its orders were brought to him and he came. He arrived to a hive world designated for the tithe of readily trained Imperial Guard, picked them up and set out towards their destined battlefield. Upon arrival everything went as it should have, the Imperial Guard was deployed, the world was cleansed of the traitors and his mission was complete. Then everything went wrong. The planetary governor damn his soul, whether through incompetence or treason, logged the incorrect amount of supplies to be awarded to his ship for its service. It was an agri-world of course, one which had plenty of resources left from the fighting to fully stock his ship with everything it needed. But that one screw up, that single number ruined everything. The improper amount of food, water and other critical resources were loaded, the rest of the crates filled with useless junk. The logistics and reports would take at least a single period of thirty Terran days to be completed, and he had to quickly leave for the next mission. He still remembered that moment of realization, the moment of horror when he received the report. He sat in his office as he was now, and was waiting for communications from his commanding officers to deploy him on his next delivery. He could not believe it at first, he demanded that a recount be made, but then he received other reports. Not enough food was distributed to the crew, let alone those members of the guard which remained aboard his ship. Something like this was unprecedented. It was unheard of. It was unacceptable! Unfortunately for him, he had no time to rectify this terrible mistake. Through cruel circumstance, he received a communication from his superiors.

'Captain Fargo, we have need of your assistance. It is of great importance that you receive the tithe from the indicated Hive worlds within Sector Sola XII, and deliver the troops ready and trained to the Hive world of Dionysus in the nearby sector. A trip that _will_ last several years at the minimum if you are to arrive on time to support them. Is there any reason you cannot comply with these orders?'

Fargo remembered those exact words, to this day. The bio-enhancements he had attached to himself throughout the years made it difficult to forget. Ah! His pride did not allow him to deny the request. And one did not… no, could not, deny the orders of the administorum. Such oversights as the food and water shortage which plagued his ship was enough to deem him unfit for service and disposed of, his title, his legacy and his ship forever removed from the records. It would be seen as nothing more than incompetence of the highest order. He could not allow it, and so he answered them with confidence that his orders were received. He would do his task. He would do it! And so it was that he restricted the food to all guardsman, rationed it amongst his crew and carefully mandated the water. There could be no mistakes, else his ship end up a ruin adrift in space that only housed the starved dead. It was difficult, and several mutinies had to be quelled, but they arrived to every hive world that was designated, picked up the troops provided for the tithe, all of the appropriate type to become soldiers, fit for the ranks of Imperial Regiments. He was also fortunate to pick up a contingent of true Imperial Guard Commanders and the Lord Commissar that commanded them, Lord Farune.

With every world his ship stopped at, he tried to procure resources, demanded that the planetary governors provide him that which was necessary for his ship to continue its holy duty. Yet, it seemed, the worlds of the Frontier had a difficult time supplying their own Hive worlds with resources as it was. There were very few true agri-worlds, the Frontier so spread out and dominated by colonies which themselves required more resources. With enough time, some of those Colonies would become Agri-Worlds, but that time was still far in the distance. He received little to no aid in the end, and the Lord Commissar took notice quite quickly.

Farlos rank was superior that of the Lord Commissar of courses far as he saw it. But he knew that the Lord Commissar would serve as a better ally than enemy. So he let it happen, when Lord Farune barged into his office, despite Farlos own guards attempts to dissuade him, and demanded to know why the proper rations had not been supplied to his men. What could Farlo do but admit the horrible truth? And so he did, and praise be to the Emperor, Lord Farune understood his plight. From then on, Farune worked closely with him, and the journey to the world designated for their troops was made. All was done in an effort to maintain order and proper functions of the ship, and with Farune supporting him, the guardsmen fell in line. As many mouths as possible were removed, those who were too weak or proved problematic killed to make the resources last. Then upon arrival, they came to their designated battlefield. A Hive world overrun with traitors who sought to break away from the Imperium.

Due to the drastic measures which had been forced upon him, only two thirds of the requested Guard were deployed. But it didn't matter, such was still enough to ascertain victory for the Imperium as the planetary governor had a respectable PDF force. Everything seemed to go well and according to his hopes. The battle was won, and due to the mass loss of life upon the world resources were suddenly plentiful. He had a contingent of those Imperial Guard, under the command of Lord Farune 'secure' enough resources to last at least another hundred years for the entire ship; crew and all future guard included. It would certainly put a strain on the world when they left, he knew, but a world on the fringe of the Imperium did not matter in comparison to one of the sacred troop transportation ships that supplied the Imperium as a whole.

Fate had different plans. Luckily, Lord Farune and a contingent of his officers and two divisions of his Imperial Guard managed to return with the first batch of supplies. Enough food and water to maintain the whole of the crew from an extended time of at least five to seven years. These numbers triple checked by those voidsmen he assigned to the task, for the absolute accuracy he required. Then it happened, just before Farune and his men were to be deployed again to receive the second batch of supplies. The cowards, those few traitors left on world detonated massive nuclear warheads that were hidden throughout the hives, unwilling to give the world back to the righteous and faithful. The world was shattered within moments, broken into pieces and all resources possible to be taken irradiated and useless. He would have cared little however, willing to go secure the rest from another world now that he had enough to supply his crew, even if it was for a short time. If it wasn't for his superiors, whose orders decided to once again reach him in the worst of times. It was not as formal as the time before, and the urgency was rigid and quickly demanded that he swiftly complete his next set of orders. To secure troops from the designated worlds of the LunaV sector; proper guardsman from the regiment called the Silver Guard.

Problem was, his ship would not reliably arrive to the worlds to receive the guard, given the unbridled nature of the warp. His ship was at the far end of its current sector, and the trip to pick up the tithes would last longer than he could reasonably supply his crew. The world which was designated for him to deliver e Guard to called Sola IV, an Agri-world that surely had enough food to supply his ship. As it was, he was closer to that world than the tithe worlds his superiors demanded he collect from. However, he could not simply arrive without the Imperial Guard that were promised. His pride, would not allow it, he could not defame his legacy in that way. Is was a sacred mission, and he would do what was expected of him. Without thought, he again accepted his orders without question.

It was then, that he convened with Lord Farune, pleaded with him to help him with this plight. From that conversation sparked a wild and unfortunate plan, a necessary evil. They were within the vicinity of several colony worlds, trips that would hopefully last less than a Terran year between them provided the warp was willing. There they would acquire the necessary soldiers and then deliver them to their destination. Lord Farune promised him, they would become proper guardsmen through the training of himself and his commanders. Members of the crew too would serve as drill sergeants if it was required. Ultimately the bodies they collected would be fit to fight upon arrival. Then they would receive the resources deserved of them when the battle was won, and thus end this nightmare. It was a foolish plan, liable to end in his death, but it was the only one he could do and still fulfill his duty. The administratum would never need find out, and he could see in Lord Farune a deep desire to mold imperial soldiers of his own. Those guard still on the ship were drilled mercilessly by him and his commanders, compliant and full members of the Guard. It was a dark deal, a foolish one perhaps, but Farlo agreed to it and so it began.

The first world they visited was a storage world, one which housed weapons, armors, ammunition and vehicles for Imperial forces. It's had little other use, and its industrial capacity was all but minimum. It depended solely upon the support of nearby worlds which it supplied with its wartime supplies for resources. Farlo met with the Planetary Governor who conceded to his plan, though refused to allow his PDF to be drafted. No, he would only hand over the excess citizenry which began to outgrow their worlds own supply. They would additionally provide all the weapons and munitions necessary, but he wanted to keep all the PDF forces on world as he was paranoid of rebellion just as many worlds of the Frontier were. Farlo could not overstep, and so took the near worthless workers aboard his ship, all under the guise of the Imperiums tithe. Lord Farune assured him, assured him, they would be transformed into proper guardsman, all of them fully equipped and ready for battle when they arrived. He watched the procession board his vessel, and he doubted, but it was too late to provide opposition. He worried of rebellion aboard his own ship from these mere citizens turned guard, of the poor quality they would no doubt be as soldiers.

Lord Farune assured him otherwise. No, he would control everything. He made it clear, with Farlos help, to all the budding guardsmen that this was normal. Though it was a lie, they told them their world payed a tithe every thousand years of soldiers, this was their purpose and their destiny. Farunes commanders drilled this into them, made their reality as guardsmen normal and real, so that they would acknowledge that they were to become true Guardsmen. They were nothing else, and they belonged to the Emperor now. But they were still mere warehouse workers in Farlos eyes. He was disgusted with this sham, but it was one he could do not, but help facilitate. It worked enough, and he saw how much pleasure Lord Farune derived from it all, breaking the will of the citizens as he molded them into the Guards service. The lack of food used against them as a tool to break y will they had. But it was all in service of a greater good, to fulfill his family legacy and deliver the soldiers requested by a world in need. His crew sanctioned off from those sectors aboard his ship filled with the new guardsmen, all in an effort to maintain the illusion.

This continued of course for several more colony worlds, several of which were slightly more industrial and the others mere settlements. They were all hesitant to give over any PDF forces or resources, but Farlo _nearly_ convinced them. He would have, had it not been for the intervention of Lord Farune, who seemed to take more authority than was provided to him. He denied accepting PDF soldiers, and severely limited he supplies Farlo could squeeze out of them. The planetary governors were all terrified at the prospect of the Imperial tithe on their worlds, and Farlo sought to take advantage of that. But no, Farune intervened every time.

He only wanted as many citizens as was possible to mold into his own regiment from the worlds, with war specific resources the majority of anything procured. Such foolishness! Farlo had of course taken on many, many Imperial citizens as Imperial Guard before, but they were always from proper tithe worlds. And regardless, what really mattered to Farlo was the _quality_ of Guardsman his ship procured and delivered. Why take the citizenry who had no experience, when there were those much more ready, far more fit to become guardsmen? It was a dishonor to his ship and to his legacy to not even attempt to take on decent stock. And to demand that only men be taken… they could have already met their quota by now. Farlo could not understand the logic that ran through Farunes head. When asked, he would only say it was because they were 'fresh minds to be broken and remade by scratch'. And so it was, that they were given lower, and lower quality bodies with every world, mere Imperial citizens, in large numbers yes, but not a soldier among them. No gangers, no rabid savages, no PDF, nothing of the sort which would translate to such honored service. They took nothing but excess factory workers, warehouse workers, criminals, homeless, and settlers. While it may have been beneficial to the worlds they took from, it only brought his ship closer to death. It brought tears to Farlo's eyes to see such a miserable sight as they were brought aboard, how far he had dropped to accomplish his task.

Yet he gave it a pass. He had convinced himself that Farune knew what he was doing. He had gone through the trainings of a schola after all. He was a Lord Commissar of the Emperors legions, who gave himself all to the cause. Farlo was a fool to convince himself that nothing was wrong. He should have put an end to it, intervened sooner, but he did not. No, he knew that he was past the point of no return about a Terran Month ago, when they had come across a reconnaissance vessel from the Faceless Legion, a true regiment of Imperial Guard that existed within the Frontier, which had entire worlds dedicated to the production of soldiers. Farlo was ecstatic to have come across them, hopeful that something good would result of the chance meeting. A chance he felt was the Emperors very attempt at providing him repentance. He and Farune invited them aboard, and at first things went well. Farune was just as happy to see them, but as soon as he suggested that they helped run training drills aboard the ship against the guardsmen in training… things went terribly wrong. Farunes 'guardsman' barely held up against the trained accuracy and might of the Faceless Legions basic soldiers, nearly 8 out of every 10 exercises resulted in the loss of Farunes men. He could not handle the disgrace, for it proved what Farlo already knew-they were not the most quality soldiers, and they could only hope to be but mere cannon fodder. So Farune ran the Faceless Legion away, sent them off and rebuked their active commander. Farlo tried to desperately intervene, but Farune threatened to expose him for taking on citizens instead of the requested tithes. So he had to quietly watch as the Faceless Legions ship left, off into the Warp.

Farune was out of control, and seemed to believe himself on par with the Inquisition in his demands and authority. But Farlo could do little, for he needed Farune and worst of all, was his accomplice in this farce. He had gone too far to stop now, and Farune only seemed to act more brazenly as time progressed. A madness had overtaken him, and he could no longer reign him in as a subordinate. Farlo stopped checking on the progress of the new guardsmen, long after he watched the horrid treatment and brutal process not befit those of the Imperial Aquila. They would be ready to fight, though how effective he was not sure, and they barely met basic health standards. Given how they fared in the exercises against the Faceless Legion… it would not end well. All he needed was for them to be delivered and for his ship to be restocked in full. He banked upon it with all his soul. Of course, then today had come when they had finally arrived. The day that everything came to a final, climactic head. Judgment surely, by the ever watching Emperor on his holy throne.

Farlo turned off the screens in front of him as he gazed to his right at the main console. The one from which he could view the outside of the ship. There was the planet he had bet everything on. There was the agri-world whose plea for help that he had responded to. It was nothing but rubble now, chunks of frozen rock set adrift throughout space. The cosmic dust laced in rings that stayed stagnant and still, as if nothing affected them. As if they had not once been part of an entire world, a world which could have solved all of Farlos problems. Destroyed by order of the Inquisition, by order of exterminatus. He had gambled everything on getting to this world; everything. Despite his better judgments he allowed Farune to do as he pleased, and take the lowest quality bodies he could, trained a mediocre stock of soldiers and drained his ship of resources to fulfill his delivery on time, rather than risk receiving actual soldiers from the tithe worlds he was originally assigned. Perhaps, he began to feel, that it would have been better lest they attempted their original task and died, then go through this…

Farlo leaned back into his seat as he rubbed his temples. Farune would return to his office soon, having gone off to 'appease the troops', the half-starved bastards. His ship was a fading clock, barely managing to tick through every moment it had. They would not have enough resources forever… if it came to it, he would have his own voidsmen 'cleanse' his ship of the filth that swamped it. The Imperial Guard currently aboard his ship, the 'regiment' of Farunes creation, was not up to Farlos standards. They were still however, trained and well enough to serve as a capable fighting force. They would have at least sufficed for any planetary operation, had there been a planet when they arrived. He had seen many Imperial Guardsman forged from the Imperial citizenry aboard his vessel, many he was proud to have delivered. These… vermin… were not. They were starved, barely kept alive and trained to excess as if his ship was a Schola. If they had all of the proper resources aside from lasguns and armaments, certainly, they could have been much more acceptable. But as it stood, they were but starving beasts with weapons that only needed a single spark to incite mutiny. And if food ran out, there was no doubt in his mind that is what would happen. Farune trained them improperly, and without the care required to forge a hammer fit for the Emperor to swing against his enemies.

He sat up onto his chair as he heard he familiar slide of his door open. He clenched his hands together as he laid his chin over them, and watched with rage at the man who walked into his office.

"So, have you appeased your 'guardsmen'?"

Farune held onto the tip of his hat as he pulled it down. Though he didn't remove that blasted grin from his face. He was as confident as ever.

"My guardsman will not cause problems. I assure you of that, Captain Farlo. They are more then trained enough to know their place. Besides, we would not need to appease them had you not made a simple, logistical oversight. Isn't that right? If my men were well fed, perhaps they would show more improvement."

Farlo slammed his hand onto his desk as he stood up. This was enough!

"Do not try and throw such things at me. I understand fully well what I had failed to do. But your starving beasts barely stand cohesive enough as it is. Yet you train them as if you intend to kill them before they can be of proper use. They are but Imperial citizens wearing the uniforms of Imperial Guard! Can you truly keep them under control if we run out of resources? I barely have enough to maintain my crew. Not that you would feed your own soldiers, would you? I see how you taunt them with it, use it as a weapon. You are supposed to train Imperial Guard dammit! Make soldiers worthy of the Emperors grace! If you had not insisted that we only take the Imperial Citizenry, who take considerably longer to train under normal circumstances, and only men, we could have arrived sooner with more ready troops and be out of this mess!"

Farune laughed as he let go of his hat and knocked it off of his head. He revealed his sagging eyes, the dark circles beneath them showing just how tired he was. His hair a complete mess, oily and unkempt.

"I secured us vehicles, I secured us weapons, I secured us armor, and I secured enough soldiers to use all of them. Having done this as long as you have, I am certain you have seen many Imperial Guardsman formed from the citizenry, haven't you? And your services are only required in dire times of need, so when the call was made, you responded despite not having the ability to do it the way you wanted. I saved your sorry ass! I did what was necessary to procure enough soldiers and still arrive timely. I chose Imperial citizens because they are the easiest to mold, because they can be broken and accept the pathetic rations your ship is currently able to sustain. I only took men because we cannot handle more mouths being produced, can we? And what would have happened, Farlo, had we taken on the PDF from various worlds? Invited those members of the Faceless Legion to join us? People whose wills have already been tempered and who know how to fight? Would they have stood for the harsh rations and resource shortages? Or would they have mutinied sooner? They are already set in their ways, my guardsmen were molded to become what we needed them to be, obedient and under our command."

Farlo was at a loss for words. He had not considered that notion before…

"Perhaps. But still…"

Farune had nearly lost his patience.

"I understand, Farlo that you pride yourself on the quality of soldiers that this ship has always served to deliver. But this is reality. Soldiers on par with true Imperial Regiments like the Faceless Legion are far and between. They are harder to handle than starting from scratch. Sometimes, we have to make do with what we can. We took the excess from colony worlds, stockpile worlds, and even from struggling settlements. Citizens who should feel honored to become soldiers of the Imperial Guard, of the Emperor. They are easy to mold, to have any culture and preexisting temperaments rid of that they become a single unit under one banner. With the right words and pushes, they will become the most loyal as they can have their sensibilities crushed and remade again, any problematic tendencies hammered out. That is what I have done to ensure that this ship continued to serve the Imperium. Are they up to standard? No. Painfully, I admit this. But they will fight and die for the Emperor, make no mistake about that. They are still a force capable of fighting effectively enough. We are all servants of the Emperor first and foremost, do not forget that Captain. We were called to deliver Guardsman, and we did what was necessary to ensure that delivery happened."

Farlo looked back again to the image of the destroyed world outside. Perhaps this had taken its toll on him and his judgements. The stress had gotten to him and muddied his reason. Perhaps… no. This changed little. There was little use in argument now. What was it that they were going to do?

"The world we came to deliver to, is destroyed. By will of the Emperor, it was. And here we are, on a dying ship. What more can we do?"

Farune sighed as he swayed to the side.

"My Guardsmen were told repeatedly that their worlds held tithes every thousand years. Such is simply not true nor logistical, especially for colony and stockpile worlds. They can hardly sustain themselves let alone supply enough soldiers for war. But, my Guardsmen have normalized it, taken their role as Guardsmen as truth. They are convinced that their worlds gave them up purely because it is the order of the Imperium, and that this life is all they have. To listen to orders and be obedient soldiers. Do you know why?"

Farlo only shook his head, half interested in what Farune rambled about. Farune didn't seem to mind as he continued as enthused as he was before.

"I have made a regiment of guardsmen willing to die. All guardsmen must accept that they are all but destined to die on the battlefield, but mine are willing to accept death on principle for they don't belong to themselves, to their home worlds, to their culture, they belong to the Imperium. To you and me, as their superior officers. They do not have their lives for their own, their lives are purely for the Emperor now. If we must, I will have them culled to acceptable levels until we can find what we must do. I am sure many of them would even welcome death as a sweet release into the Emperors arms. Just give the word, Captain. Have faith in the Emperor and he will provide."

Farlo had to think the preposition over as he continued to look at the main console. When he had made his mind he turned to face Farune and give his answer. Fate would not have it however, as he received a sudden Vox communications from his communications officer. It seemed the branch in the administorum which presided over him had requested yet again, further orders to be comple.

"Captain Farlo, we have received this transmission, though we are unsure how long ago it was sent. I'll have it playing now…"

After several static filled moments of silence, the message finally played.

We apologize for the many orders you have been given, but understand that the Frontier is a place severely lacking in the resources required to maintain its growth. Transportation vessels such as yours included. By the time this has reached you we fully expect that the situation on SolaIV will have been dealt with. As we are lacking in available ships, there is an anomaly in the nearby sector that needs to be investigated. It seems that an Imperial Vox station has gone silent in the area. Find and discover why they have stopped receiving our signals. If any signs of rebellion have taken root, eliminate them all. Here are…"

Farlo could hardly believe it. Yes… truly, the Emperor presided over them. This was their second chance.

* * *

Argus woke up to the sound of clanging on pipes. He wasn't sure how long he had been asleep, but it had been a while. The rumbling in his stomach urged him to stand and seek out food. While his spirit withered away, it seemed his body refused to die. He pushed himself from the ground and stood up. Shakily his legs kept him standing as vertigo shook his vision for a few moments. When everything settled down he grabbed his gear, his Flak vest and the lasgun from where he left them. His helmet squeezed back onto his head and clipped into place with the straps under his chin. Carefully he made his way out of his sanctum and back into the dark confines of the ship. He trudged on as he always did and found himself back into the main hallway. But something was different this time, as he saw many of his fellows running along in orderly fashion. It was full of activity as his fellow guardsmen came and went, to and fro. Without notice he was pulled aside by the firm grip of his commander, Augustus, who dragged him to the side.

"There you are! Damn it Guardsman! You are lucky I found you before I had to really start looking. Your time of service is nearly here. Follow me and help me find the rest of the squad."

Time of service? Argus could hardly believe his ears. So, they truly were going to fight? Was… was the world being destroyed but a fantasy made up in his sleep? He-he couldn't keep his commander waiting for an answer.

"Y-Yes sir."

His commander peered at him with a deathly glare as he looked him over. From his boots to his helmet, nothing was un-scrutinized. Argus didn't know what to expect, but he stood as tall as he could. To his surprise the moment passed and his commander looked away.

"Well come along then guardsman."

Argus couldn't help but blurt out a question before his commander started walking, despite knowing full and well the consequences of speaking out of turn. His curiosity about what was going on only bugged him too greatly.

"Where are we headed… sir?"

His commander didn't seem to take notice as he continued to look away. He took several steps and instinctively Argus followed behind him. It was natural to him to do so, after all the hellish training he had undergone. He could hardly resist the urge to follow even the simplest of gestures made by his commander. He remembered that first week well, when he and the others who were in his squad were forced to starve if they didn't obey every command, follow the commander everywhere and guess what he wanted of them. Needless to say, Argus was compelled now, a nervous tick in his brain forcing him into compliance. He knew better than to resist, after all the consequences of disobedience he witnessed, that they all did, and soon it was natural. Despite the torment that Argus felt with every passing moment in the man's presence.

Again to his surprise, his commander answered him. More than that, he seemed enthusiastic about it.

"I see you have finally taken interest, Argus, in your duty. The world we were set to save may have been judged before we arrived, but by the Emperors grace we have been assigned a new deployment to recover a strategic asset. A Vox station in the nearby sector. Do not worry, your time to serve is at hand."

With that nothing else was said and the two walked along the ever filling halls of guardsmen as they made their way towards one of the ships many docking bays. Along the way the other members of his squad gathered up without word as they saw their commander. Eventually all ten of them were assembled, their lasguns held fast in their hands as they pressed forward. When they finally arrived into the docking area, they found themselves quickly moved towards one of the small transport ships on board. Large and box-like, they didn't seem fit to carry soldiers but cargo.

There however, came the biggest surprise of all. Argus commander had them all stand just before the doors to the transport as strange men in white robes started to pour in from somewhere. They carried small bags, with something inside that seemed to ignite his senses. At the tail end of the procession was the commissar, still as tall and proud as Argus remembered. The man stood in the center of the group and then spoke as floating skulls carrying speakers began to slither along the ground.

"Hello my guardsman, it is finally time to show that you are truly worthy of the Emperors service. It has been difficult, but you have been forged into Imperial Guardsmen. We are in the vicinity of a Vox station of vital importance to the Imperium. I am sure you have all been anxious to serve, and so it is that you will get your chance. Do not waste your lives foolishly, die with purpose and with progress. I know that food has been an issue aboard this ship, but trust me, if you prove yourselves here there will be plenty to eat. Our dear captain has found it fit to supply all of you with a proper meal, to strengthen you for the task ahead, and to reward you for your diligent patience. So please, eat and enjoy. Know that those who survive and those who succeed in this mission will never have to starve again."

At the very moment his speech ended, the men in white robes rushed to every transport and every group of guardsman assembled. As they came up to Argus and the others, they were handed bags, as the men preached about the Emperor.

'Go forth and bring honor to the Emperors name.'

'Serve he who sits upon the golden throne well.'

'Fear not death, for it is in service of the god of mankind.'

Argus barely heard or listened to them, as he opened the bag and found bread. Actual bread and more than that, there was some sort of food bar and a small canteen filled with water. He could hardly help himself, none of his squad mates could. He immediately dug in as he ate, fresh tears poured from his eyes as he did. He could hardly remember the last time he ate, and though this was simple, though this was but the most meager of supplies, it was euphoric. All the guardsmen thought so, as they ate their meal with such care and diligence, that not a word was spoken. Watched cheerfully by their commanders and by Lord Commissar Farune. He smiled as he watched his plan go into effect. Yes, many of these guardsmen would fully commit their lives now, fight and die without hesitation and obey their orders. For while broken spirits made it easy to mold, he knew there was something more powerful. Yes. This act of charity would come at a great cost in the ships entire food supply to feed the guardsmen before they departed for the station. However, he and Farlo had already discussed it. The station was large enough to support nearly the entire ships worth of people on its own, and so it had to have a steady supply of food and other resources. They were also fortunate that the station would be similar terrain to what his Guardsmen have so far trained in, making their effectiveness much higher. The station itself had clearly stopped communications, despite being in near pristine condition at least from the outside. They tried to communicate several times to the station when they arrived, but they received no response. All they could pull up were the last vox records that the station had sent, all about having received shipments of food and water from SolaIV, several Terran months before it was destroyed. Everything was falling into place, despite how coincidental it all seemed. The Emperor worked in many ways…

This act of charity ensured his complete control over his troops now, having provided them with both hope and an outstretched hand of faith by the missionaries he had deliver the food. For a broken soul, such things easily would turn the most adamant non-believer into a preacher of the faith. Now they just had to clear the entire station of anything that remained aboard. If there were still Imperial forces… they were traitor for lacking in their duties and so, it did not matter if they died. They could have easily responded to their attempts at communication. Yes. Everything fell into place. He watched with a widening smile, as the sounds of hymns and chants filled the entire docking bay. His guardsmen quickly piled into their transports and ferried off, one by one into space. The station had defensive weapons on it, however there was no indication that they were in use. Suspiciously, one seemed to have been out of commission very recently, simply from how it was damaged from looking at it. Whatever had happened aboard the station, he had faith his guardsmen would at the very least, be able to quell it. If nothing else, securing the resources aboard the station was all that mattered.

Not that Argus could have known any of that. His briefing was simple and to the point as he and his squad were crowded into the transport shuttle. Though he found it odd it was only his squad placed inside, his commander was quick to explain.

"Our mission is simple. We are clearing the entire station of all assailants. We do not know what they are yet, but it is likely they may be traitors. Do not feel sympathy for them, for they have shunned the Emperors good graces. Our squad along with B, C and D squads are the vanguard for the main force. We will secure the hanger bay upon arrival, and make sure these cargo transports land safely. When the main force begs arriving we will continue on in search for the storage rooms and begin escorting it back to be loaded on the cargo transports. Understood?"

Argus and the rest of his squad-mates only nodded. Such was the expected response to their commander's words, and he seemed pleased by it. With nothing else to say, they waited for hours as the ship drifted onward in space. Nothing but the sound of silence between them. Argus took the time to look at each of them, just as downtrodden as he was. But something was different among them, as they all seemed to have a newly defined resolve. Such was more than Argus remembered ever seeing on their faces, and he wondered if he too had the same resolve. He wasn't sure. Though as he really looked at them, he found he couldn't even recall their names. It never really mattered what their names were really, at least to him. Just their titles if they had one, or squad-mate. They were all fodder anyway, so why bother? But today, he felt almost ashamed of it.

He shook his head as he pulled up his lasgun and looked it over. He wanted to make sure it was in proper order before they arrived. Before whatever was to happen aboard their destination came to pass. His fellow guardsmen joined in not long after as they each looked over their own weapons. The one who had the vox-pack, who Argus called vox-carrier, carefully and meticulously looked over the equipment as he had been trained to do. Argus only recalled his face because he was one of the few who stayed the same amongst his squad. And, since he was always well treated by the commander. After all, he had become just as pious as Commander was. Either way, it didn't matter. As he finished his maintenance, Argus held the lasgun back to his chest and looked ahead at the doors, ready for whatever came.

He didn't know how long the trip took, and its end seemed to creep up on him. The entire transport shook as they felt it land onto a hard surface. Then a light flashed on above the doors, green. They opened forwards soon after and Commander pointed forward. He did as he was trained as he and his squad-mates rushed forward into what seemed like another docking bay. Though the lights were dim and flashed red, eerily silent. Not a single other ship in the vicinity of their own. Crates scattered about the place, some of them busted open with their contents long since removed. Argus took cover behind one of the crates as he aimed his lasgun at the sealed door which led to the rest of the station. His commander knelt beside him as he called vox-carrier to his side. He looked over the area and then spoke up.

"It seems this area is clear. Vox carrier, come here. Contact the others and alert them that the area is secure and to begin landing. We will continue along to further investigate what is going on."

Vox-carrier did as he was told, but Argus stopped paying attention as he saw a strange shadow in the distance. He could have sworn that a vent above the door shifted, as if a black blob ran past. Though he didn't know whether to tell his commander… perhaps it was just a trick of the eye.

Then again, he saw… something move. At the vent again, as if it was waiting there.

"C-Commander… there might be something in the vent."

His commander put a hand on his shoulder as he leered over.

"Hmmm… good eye, Argus. Riker, Robin, press ahead and investigate."

With no objection two of his fellows stood from their places behind boxes and rushed forward. They stood at both sides of the door as they peered up at the vent, their lasguns held up. Argus nearly jumped up as he heard a loud thump behind him, only to realize it was probably the other transports arriving. His commander tapped him again on his shoulder as he stood up. Argus followed and the rest of his squad pressed forward. He wasn't sure why, but Argus kept a short distance between him and his commander. Perhaps it was because he felt it was safer, but then again, wouldn't they go for their commander first? He didn't care enough about him to keep him alive… though perhaps his body would just make him jump in the way regardless.

He and the others made their way up to the door as their commander raised his pistol, or what seemed to be a pistol. It was much larger than anything Argus had seen before, and emanated a faint blue energy from it. Without warning Commander raised it at the vent and fired, blasting a massive hole in the wall as the blue flame it launched disintegrated the metal. As the smoke cleared, a loud clattering sound was heard that continued away from them. While Argus backed away from the heat produced by the flame, Commander seemed unfazed and clearly disgruntled.

"We proceed with caution."

He walked up to the side of the door and pressed a few buttons on the side console. Then when the doors opened, her he gave a nod towards Argus and the squad member closest to him. They walked forward into the dark, empty corridor as they were prompted and looked down both ways. It was a large and spacious hallway, with very little in the way of decoration. Simply constructed from metal in the most utilitarian way, with jutted support beams at intervals along both sides of wall. He looked to his squad mate and walked forward as he pressed himself against one of the supports. The darkness was hard to see through, and it scared Argus. While he had gotten used to such conditions aboard the ship, he didn't have to fear something would spring from the darkness to attack him. His squad mate however simply held his lasgun up as he looked down the hallway, unafraid. He peered down as if he saw something.

Commander cleared his throat before he spoke.

"Report."

Argus tried to speak but found he had trouble getting the words out. His heart pounded against his chest in a discomforting rhythm as he calmed himself, or at least tried. He had to remain calm... Thankfully he didn't have to say anything as this squad mate in the middle of the hallway responded instead.

"Nothin' so far commander. But is going to be ell' to see in this darkness."

As soon as he said that the lights around them flashed on in a single blinding moment as Argus shut his eyes tightly to adjust. He opened them up again just in time to watch as his squad member in the hall was ripped to shreds by an unseen projectile, the sounds of some sort of gunfire exploding out from down the hallway. Blood splashed in all directions as flesh was ripped from bone and in moments, his hole ridden corpse hit the ground.

Argus pressed himself as tightly as he could against the support beam as he heard the whistles of projectiles rush by. He held tightly onto his lasgun as he shook. He let go with one hand as he felt the belt of his uniform for the one grenade he was assigned. He found it and with a pull of the release using his teeth he launched it to the side down the hallway. A loud 'krak!' followed, as smoke filled the hallway. Commander and the rest of his squad rushed in as they opened fire down the hallway. Argus too managed to look down into the smoke filled hallway and fired his lasgun aimlessly into the black puff. When it cleared he saw what remained; a makeshift barricade of boxes, and metal scraps, several bodies outstretched over it. His commander rushed on ahead, his pistol in hand as he marched unfazed at the loss of one of his soldiers. Argus wish he could have mourned, felt something at the loss of life, but he didn't. He only pressed ahead behind his commander. Jittery as he went, his lasgun held up as he aimed it ahead of him. He couldn't say he wasn't curious who attacked them, and as he did he didn't know what to think. They looked human but… something was…

His commander knelt over one of the bodies as he flipped it over to reveal the face of what seemed like a beautiful young human man. His face almost too perfect… pleasant in death, as if he died peacefully despite how violent it actually was. He also wore strange cloths, skin tight and nothing Imperial looking about them. A necklace over his neck that shined brightly with the single round stone in its center. Then Argus noticed his ears, long and pointed as they were covered with blood. Commander broke his gaze as he grabbed the necklace from the corpse's body and forcefully ripped it off the neck as he held it in the air.

"Vox carrier. Contact the ship and alert them that Eldar are aboard the ship. It doesn't seem like they were soldiers, given that we are still alive. But it doesn't matter. We must cleanse this entire station of this xenos filth."

Eldar…? What were Eldar?

Argus looked down at the body again. They could have been human, or at least… he was pulled away from his thoughts as he heard an awful crunch. He looked down on the floor as Commander slammed the necklace onto the ground and stomped on the stone with his boot. He turned to look at Argus and tilted his head to the side.

"As for us, we press forward. If we follow this corridor we should arrive in the storage bay soon enough. However, I expect the Eldar will be expecting us. Hopefully there are no members of their more militarized forces among them. Though I doubt they would send their precious civilians into battle before them… most curious."

He shook his head as he kicked the corpse to the side.

"No matter. Do not hesitate and kill them all on sight. They are xenos, who seek the demise of all of mankind. Give them no pity for they deserve none. And vox-carrier, call in a special request. Requisition us some autocannons and as many flamers as possible. Depending on how many of the bastards are infesting this station, we will have to burn and blast them away one room at a time."

Argus watched as more guardsman from other squads poured into the hallway and rushed past his own at the behest of their own commanders. Commander then turned to Argus.

"It was quick thinking of you, Argus, with that krak grenade. Afraid it won't be so easy going forward, but, you did well to make our presence clear to this alien scum. Let's press forward, towards our destination."

Argus only managed a nod as he followed after Commander. Just one amongst the stream of guardsman that flooded the hall. All of them, even his own squad mates, walked over the body of their fallen comrade. Though Argus could only assume, there was no burial, not now. This was war, at least their own. And it wasn't long until battle resumed as they came to a T-intersection. On one side was another makeshift barricade, where several Eldar stood behind. They didn't give any chance, and the first few guardsman who walked into line of sight was eradicated, shredded just like Argus squad mate. The guardsmen returned fire, but having no cover of their own were almost left defenseless. More guardsmen piled into a side room to avoid being shot, only to be surprised as another barricade was set up inside and those who opened the door were immediately fired upon.

It wasn't until the rear guard veterans showed up that they made progress as they brought flamers with them. Without a moment's hesitation they set the entire corridor and the room ablaze, the loud screams of burning souls echoing along the metal walls. Argus was at the back as he watched all of this, still beside his commander as he stood behind a corner of the hallway. The wave of guardsmen didn't let up, and as soon as their route was clear they pressed forward, some even desecrating the dead bodies of the Eldar as they went. Every room afterwards was met with a breach, and every corner of the hallway not passed until grenades were thrown down them. The veterans pressed between squads and methodically flamed out every room they could. Argus's squad stayed as far back as possible, only because Commander insisted he watch from a distance. Whenever they would walk past the bodies of the Eldar, he would crush the stones that all of them wore around their necks. Argus was unsure how to feel, jumpy at every sound and every bout of combat made him uneasy. Then they came to the largest room yet, a massive open area that lead into several other hallways, and a single lift in its center that led down somewhere below.

Here, they encountered something much stronger than they had previously as armored soldiers waited for the guardsmen. They moved quickly, as they darted from one point to another, their elongated pointed helmets the only thing that Argus could readily identify. This time there was at least cover for him and the others, behind a whole host of crates, tables and statues that were hastily strewn about the domed area. Tapestries hung from the ceiling and drooped down to the floor all along the sides of the room, seemingly left untouched despite the xeno presence, and an above area that circled the center space. From there more of the new Eldar soldiers fired down at them, and bodies soon piled the floor. Argus squad was finally forced to rejoin the fight and took cover behind a small cargo lift thrown over on the right side of the room. Argus barely managed to poke his head over the barrier before he ducked down again from the sound of projectiles colliding against it. He watched as he squad mates poked up and fired at different targets, and everything was in mayhem. The sounds of las fire and the weapons of the Eldar almost deafening as they echoed off every surface in the room. Still he followed his orders as Commander yelled at them to keep firing.

He pulled up and fired again at a passing Eldar which seemed to blurrily sway away behind one of the statues. With a shot fired Argus ducked down again and looked to Commander who busily communicated with someone through Vox-carrier. He looked to his right to see his squad mate stand up and fire a shot, only to be launched back into the wall as his body was riddled full of holes. Blood spurted like a fountain as veins were severed, and Argus felt the hot crimson goo wash over his face. He wiped it away furiously from his eyes as the grime temporarily blinded him. As he blinked his eyes open he looked up and saw another Edlar soldier on the upper level above them. He raised his lasgun and fired in the general direction as he held down the trigger. One of the shots managed to make its mark as it broke through the Eldar's helmet and they fell down to the floor just beside him. One of his squad mates turned quickly to the side and fired into the body for assurance, as more blood splatted all across them. Commander was quickly to their side as he dragged the vox-carrier behind him.

"Hold on, I requested reinforcement!"

Just as he finished his sentence the deafening sound of autocannons broke the silence as they fired high powered rounds through the hallway and into the room, punching massive holes in everything in their path. Argus didn't want to consider it, but he knew that not all of the other guardsmen had gotten out of the way. Luckily the gambit worked, as the Eldar were caught off guard, their cover destroyed and the rest were quickly dealt with by the vets with flamers who stepped over their own cover and began to pour the liquid flames over the anything in sight. It got unbearably hot as corpses, crates and metal burned, the smell just as severe. But after it was done, there was silence as all of the Guardsmen including Argus waited for a surprise rebound. Waited for any little noise or movement. Though as silence began to take hold, the guardsmen were told to move forward and secure the space. The flames were extinguished, and the heavy artillery rolled in through the hallway. Nearly six autoguns mounted on wheels were pushed through, and one was placed on each hallway looking outward. This was to become their main point of operations, from which they would cleanse the rest of the station. Argus found himself unable to rest as he stayed near the bodies of the Eldar he killed and the squad mate who was killed beside him. Their squad was already down two members, and Argus couldn't help but think on how quickly it happened. How truly expendable they were, how expendable he was. One of his living comrades stood beside him as he looked down at the dead elder.

"So this is a xeno huh…? Thought they'd be uglier than this."

Argus looked over towards Commander to see him communicating with the other leading officers. Likely about whatever their next objective was. They didn't even bat an eye at any of this. They seemed to know so much, like whoever these Eldar were before. It was… odd to say in the least. No, it wasn't odd actually. It was expected wasn't it? They were veterans themselves, having survived battles before this one. Argus could only wonder at the things they had gone through that made them so calm in such situations as this.

He looked down at the Eldar again, his comrade still talking, but he didn't pay notice. The lifeless glare of the mask stared at him as his reflection came into view. Why did they look so human? What did they…

"What's underneath the mask you think?"

He turned to his comrade who proposed the question.

"What?"

Before he could really comprehend what they were doing the other guardsman knelt down and tugged on the helmet of the dead Eldar. He struggled to pull at first, but after a while and a small click the helmet flew off to reveal a sight that really shook Argus to his core. It was a woman… or a female Eldar, at least. But she still… she looked so human. Even in death she seemed beautiful and content, despite the open mouth on her corpse and the lifeless eye that peered at him. The other eye nothing but a hole now from where the lasgun had managed to pierce, as the now familiar red liquid poured like a waterfall down her cheek.

His comrade didn't seem to find the sight nearly as troubling as he did.

"Wow! She's a beut, isn't she? Almost human. Shame she was a damn Xeno. Still, she looks so damn beautiful! Emperor, I haven't even seen a woman in… I don't know how long. Too long if you ask me."

Argus stayed silent as the dead Eldars eyes looked at him, deep into his soul. Then he noticed the stone just above her chest, built into a small socket on her armor. The same kind that had been on all of the necklaces that Commander enjoyed crushing.

His comrade reached out a hand to touch the Eldars face when he was hit on the back with a metal baton. He keeled to the side as he turned around to see who it was. It was Commander, and he didn't seem pleased at all.

"Hello guardsman, did I just witness attempted heresy?"

Argus stepped aside as he watched the guardsman on the floor push away from the body.

"N-No sir, its just, I mean… look at her. She's gorgeous, and I haven't even seen another-"

Commander raised his hand as if to strike him again, but stopped halfway down.

"She is a filthy Xeno! Do not meddle yourself with such filth. Or do you want to bring yourself so low as to pervert your humanity with the corpse of a Xeno? Do you? Because those who tarnish their humanity are naught but traitor to the Emperor himself. Kill the Xeno, rid them from the Emperors sight, and extinguish their flame. That is all you do. For we are humanity, and we are above them. I will not make this statement again, Guardsman."

The only response he got was a nod as the cowering guardsman pushed himself away and walked off. Then Commander looked to Argus.

"If you ever see something like that again, shoot the perpetrator on sight."

Argus himself only managed a nod and a simple, "Sir." Somehow a little surprised that such an order was given to him. It didn't help that he proceeded to watch as his commander broke his own rule and pulled out the stone that was in the Eldars armor. He pried it off with his side knife, as if he had done so countless times before. Then he held it firmly in his hand as he rubbed it along his fingers. All the while he seemed angry about it, displeased that he even held it in his hands.

"Eldar, Argus. Some of the most foul Xeno I have ever encountered before. Self-indulgent monsters who have no regard for any life save their own miserable filth. They would kill us all just to save a single damnable stone like this one. They look like us, but even that is a sin in the eyes of the Emperor. Feel no pity. I have made it my life's desire to kill every Eldar I have the pleasure of finding. Certainly hard bastards to kill, but here… this station has provided me an opportunity to repay them for what they took from me. They haven't put up nearly as much resistance as I have seen before, most of them aren't even soldiers. Oh Argus… if only you knew…"

Argus had no words to say. He held everything in, unable to say anything, because he felt he would explode lest he let out even a whimper. He didn't fully understand why Commander told him what he did, but he felt everything the man said as he fondled the stone in his hand. Malice nd anger, right to its core. He could only imagine the history he had with the xeno. Unsure of any other response, he gave a nod, and for Commander that was plenty. Argus was simply a scared guardsman in his eyes, one of many he had seen over the course of his service.

"Well then, we are going to move out soon. Our squad still has a mission to accomplish."

Argus only continued to nod as his answer, much to the indifference of Commander. He watched as the stone was dropped onto the ground and then smashed beneath the man's boot, just like all the others. Though with this one, Argus saw a twisted joy that came across commande6r's face. His smile as wide as it could go, for all but a moment, and a bright glint in his downward eyes. With every stone he crushed, it only seemed to become more apparent. Argus didn't want to know why he hated these Eldar so much, or anything. He just wanted… he didn't know what he wanted. As he looked around at the base of operations that was slowly being constructed around him, he had to tell himself again and again, this was his purpose. He was a Guardsman now, whether he liked it or not. This rampant death was merely part of the deal. His life was out of his hands, and in the palm of his commander, and his commander's superiors, and their superiors… all the way up to the Emperor of Mankind. But Argus had a hard time accepting it all, even after the fated battle came, and he was forced to kill. He felt…

He looked again at the corpse of the Eldar woman who laid dead on the floor. A xeno, a threat to mankind and the Imperium at large. She would have killed him with no remorse. None of the Eldar he had seen seemed to care about the lives of humans. They hadn't seen so much as an inkling of the crew either, and Argus could only guess at why. He saw how easily guardsman were picked off, shot by the Eldar weapons which ripped them to shreds. Yet as he looked at this one Eldar woman's corpse he couldn't help but feel… sorry? No, that wasn't it. This was war, death was inevitable. No matter whose side he was on that would never change, and the enemies demise was not a want-it was a necessity. At least for him, a single lone guardsman, one of the rank and file whose job it was to fight on behest of an Imperium he hardly knew. He wasn't sure if he could have it. These were the thoughts of a traitor, he knew that. Still, he couldn't help but see the tragedy of this universe in that dead woman's eyes.

His gaze was torn away suddenly as one of the veterans walked beside him and heaved one of the dead guardsman over the Eldars corpse. Then another was added, and another, until she was no longer seen, buried beneath the number of bodies it took to kill but a few of these armored Eldar soldiers. It was disgusting, but Argus could not look away. This was reality.

He felt a soft nudge on his back as he looked to see vox-carrier from his squad.

"Come on mate, we gotta' get on moving. Commander Augustus wants our squad to move out now. Hurry up, the Emperor won't be waitin' for ya'."

Argus pulled himself away from where he stood and followed his squad-mate. He brushed off the now dried blood which covered his face as it flecked off. The blood on his flak armor much harder to remove, almost stained. They approached the rightmost of the branching corridors, a long hallway that stretched off into more unknown. There, Commander waited for them as he looked down the darkened hallway. It was the only one which had light that flickered, only spots of the hallway lit in light. Commander sneered as he turned away and flicked his hand to motion, pointing own the darkened space as another commander ran ahead inside with his squad. By the time Argus and Vox-Carrier walked up to him, two other squads ran down the hallway into the dark. Their commander looked over the eight remaining members of his squad, then down the hall again.

"Alright. We've encountered heavier resistance, but it is no matter. Our goal remains the same, and we are to head down this corridor to locate one of the primary storage rooms on this station and secure all the food we come across. Lest the blasted Eldar ruined it all. Come along. Squads D, Q and F have already departed down."

With that two of the squad went first, and then another two, and so on until it was just Argus, Commander and Vox-Carrier. The three of them went together, all anxious as they walked into what was almost assuredly a trap in the making. Commander had the most experience with these xenos, and knew how crafty the bastards were. That's why he spaced out his squad in increments along the hallway, to try and limit the damage done in a single attack. Then again, the Eldar would probably find a way to use it to their advantage. Argus and Vox-Carrier didn't have that insight however and only had their observations to go off of. That was enough however, to know that they weren't in the clear.

So in darkness they treaded, further and further, and across several turns in complete silence. Not a sound from any of the squads sent beforehand. Strangely however, the further they got down the hallway, the brighter the light became. Much to Argus relief, they came across one of the other squads which had gone in prior. They all stood at the front of a door to a room along the corridor, the first they had come across. Commander was perturbed by their silence as he approached and pushed his way towards the other squad's commander who stood at the doorway. The man had his hands clenched tightly together, and he seemed so disgusted by whatever he saw within the room that the veins on his head showed.

Commander needed to know what held them up, and so he made it clear.

"What are you doing Rein? If the rooms…"

Commander stopped midsentence as he himself looked into the room.

"Ah. Damnable Xeno's. Come, we'll get vengeance for them."

The two commanders stepped away as they motioned for their guardsmen to follow. They all did, though as each passed the door they glimpsed inside. As Argus's turn came, he saw what had disgusted all of them so much. Bodies. Human bodies. Piled into the room, one on top of the other. They didn't have guardsmen uniforms, and worse still, there were many who were… young. Argus could only guess this was the fate of the stations crew, killed by the Eldar and stuffed into rooms like…

Argus didn't want to think of it. He turned away and kept going forward. However, as he looked back at Vox-Carrier, he saw he only stood there. His hands clenched tightly over his lasgun as he looked into the room. Argus couldn't just let him stand there, they had to keep moving.

"Hey… come on. There's… there's nothing we can do for them."

Vox-Carrier disregarded his words as he stepped towards the doorway.

"No. I can't just leave them like this. Piled up like garbage!"

Argus felt a hand brush him aside as Commander walked past him, having noticed the hold up. A guardsmen didn't get caught up with such tragedy, for it would only serve to drive them insane. That, and he needed his vox carrier alive and able to perform his duty.

"Vox carrier get back here. That is an order."

Vox-carrier ignored his words and stepped inside the room.

"I refuse to let the Emperors flock be treated this way!"

Commander shoved Argus forward.

"Go get him, drag him back here if you have to."

Argus obliged and started the walk towards the door when it exploded. Smoke and debris filled the section of hallway just outside the door as fire engulfed the area around it. Argus was unluckily in the radius as he was launched back into the wall with a loud thud and fell down onto the metal floor unconscious. Commander scratched along his face as a flying piece of metal cut the side of his cheek.

"Just like the Eldar to make a trap of the dead. One of you, pick up Argus. If he ain't dead carry him along until he either becomes dead weight or wakes up."

"Right away sir."

* * *

Argus came to, laid down against a wall. He barely remembered what had happened before he was knocked unconscious. His head spun in circles as his eyes adjusted to his surroundings, a bout of sickness overtook him as he lurched forward and vomited onto the floor. The bile left a horrid taste in his mouth that lingered, the acidic juices burning his throat as he tried to grasp what was going on. Another guardsman, one from his squad, knelt beside him and held a hand onto his shoulder.

"Back in the light of the Emperor are ya? Well, glad to see you ain't dead. Come on, get up, we almost got the door open."

Argus stood up as he picked up the Lasgun that was laid on the wall beside him. He blinked over and over again until clear vision returned to him. He watched as his squad-mate walked down the corridor towards a massive door. There Commander and all the other guardsmen, including those from the squad they met with earlier, stood around it. Sparks flew in the air as someone tried to cut into the lock that held the door shut, another guardsman kicking the side of the door to try and loosen it. Argus tried to stand presentably as he joined with the crowd, noticed by Commander who gave a glance over his shoulder to see him.

"Ah, you're still alive. Good. We managed to make it to the designated storage room. Get your lasgun in position and stand ready for whatever is on the other side. We can't access it, even with overriding the system. Needless to say, the Eldar likely have a trap for us. Alright, everyone get in formation!"

Argus nodded as he and the rest of his squad stepped away from the door and held up their lasguns. Commander and the other squad did the same, leaving the one guardsman who used a welder to cut into the door. After several long minutes, the door clicked as the sliding mechanism gave up and the door slid apart. The guardsman with the welding tool stepped away quickly, afraid of whatever was behind. It was dark in the room, though the outline of crates stacked high to the ceiling were visible. If they were lucky, they were filled with nothing but food items. Still none of them moved, the guardsmen awaiting their commanders orders.

Before any such orders could be given however, a deep and almost mechanical voice spoke up.

"Foolish monkeigh. You first destroy our craftworld and then chase us like prey? Did you not see what became of this stations crew? The same will befall you!"

Commander pushed himself behind Argus and another member of his squad.

"Brave words, xenos scum. Every last one of you will be eradicated from this station, and I promise you your precious soul stones will not be spared!"

A loud and angry growl echoed from the room as the voice answered back with malice.

"You dare speak such arrogant words against the Eldar? I will avenge all of my fallen brethren! I will fulfill my duty and my honor, to protect their souls. Even if it comes down to only me, I will kill every last one of you!"

A large Eldar construct stepped out from the doorway, its body similar to that of the armored Edlar Argus had seen before. The head though was completely different, similar to that of a large shell, rounded and smooth, with two black symbols along the white surface. A massive gun in its hands that it pointed towards the nearest guardsman and fired. Within a few seconds that person was blasted into nothingness as their bodies were eviscerated. All of the Guardsman opened fire on the construct at once, as it held up its arm to block some of the shots, cocky in its resilience. It only pressed forward as it used the swing of its arm to crush the skull of another nearby Guardsman and splatter their body like paste into the wall. Argus stepped back, fearful of the thing in front of him. Still he fired, one shot after another despite how ineffective it seemed.

The Eldar fired again into the crowd of Guardsman as more of them were completely destroyed, hardly anything left to mourn over. It was cocky as it pushed onto the crowd, and thinned their numbers one by one. The other squad that had met with Argus' were completely wiped out in but a few moments. Yet, even this Eldars powerful shell could not resist the focused lasgun fire forever as it slowly began to chip away from the abuse, and a lucky shot managed to hit its weapon in such a way that the firing mechanism broke. In a fit of rage the Eldar threw the weapon at the guardsmen killing another four of Argus squad mates.

Argus ran to the side as the Eldar rushed forward with its arms and grabbed another of his squad and threw them into the wall. Still the lagun fire didn't stop and slowly but surely, the Eldar construct broke away in several places. Seeing this Commander knew what he had to do as he raised his plasma pistol. He set it to overcharge and ran forward.

"Cover me guardsmen!"

Argus instinctively rushed alongside and continued to fire his lasgun. The rest of his squad too rushed to protect their commander, who desperately tried to get close enough. The Eldar figured what the monkeigh intended to do, and found such a gambit desperate. Still they obliged the guardsmen as they rushed along to meet them. In truth, the Eldar was just as desperate as these flailing monkeigh, but they had a duty to uphold, and so they would. The Eldar shoved away the entire left side of the guardsman, crushed them against the wall and grabbing ahold of Commander with its free arm as it lifted him into the air. Yet it missed Argus who slid to the side of the Eldar and fired his lasgun into its arm. The shot was lucky as it managed to hit right in the joint beneath its armpit, causing a major malfunction as the arm fell limp. This was all the distraction that Commander needed as he shoved the overcharging plasma pistol into its face and pushed away. In a hot blast of blue flames, almost the entirety of the constructs head was melted away, its arms detached from its shoulders. It fell forward, first onto its knees and then its chest onto the floor.

Argus didn't take chances as he rushed over it and fired over and over again into the open cavity. Commander, stood from the ground where he landed, with his right arm now removed. He walked up to Argus and patted him on the back.

"Well done guardsman, seems…"

He looked around at the scene before them.

"We were the only ones to make it. The life of a guardsman…"

He stumbled aside and over the construct as he nodded his head forward.

"Come along Argus, we still have to secure our prize."

Argus looked around at the many bodies scattered across the floor, and then back at the construct. So much violence… and so much death. It was all disgusting. But he had a hand in it all. Still, it made it no easier. Though seeing how fearsome these Eldar were, with their weapons and whatever was the armor they fought… he saw how dangerous they were. And it called the monkeigh, whatever that was supposed to mean. That he even survived was a miracle.

He shook his head, hoping to stop thinking about it. He just had to push on. He just had to listen to orders. He… he stepped over the constructs body, and then over the crushed bodies of his fellow guardsman as he chased after Commander who walked into the storage room. To his surprise the light flashed on, but there was no ambush. There was nothing but crates, and crates of food. He had seen the markings on such crates before in his former life, at the warehouse, which separated the weapons, food and other resources from one another. Though as he walked forward he found that Commander focused on something else entirely.

Sat on a small box and cowering against the pile behind her, was a girl. But she wasn't a human girl, as both Argus and Commander noticed her pointed ears. She was small, hardly half of Argus size, and she wore odd clothes. Tight to her skin, and colored similarly to the soldiers and the construct they had fought. She had light brownish blond hair, and vibrant blue eyes that shook in terror. Commander almost laughed as he saw her, how scared and terrified she was. He had never met an Eldar child before, never had the pleasure. Yes, the Emperor was with him. He would get revenge for his own family who had been killed by these wretched Xeno scum.

He spat out blood onto the girl as she shook and pushed away. Though she said nothing. Commander didn't care as he stepped aside, his gaze never leaving from the girl.

"You… all this death to protect you? Is that why the wraithknight or whatever the hell you call those things killed my squad? You filthy, xeno. I would kill you with my own hands, but…"

He waved his stumped arm towards the girl as more blood splashed over her. She almost squealed in horror, but managed to suppress it. Though her eyes did not hide the terror she felt. Her body shook and trembled at everything before her, and she didn't want to die.

Argus watched her, and all the thoughts he had until then came back. How disgusting this was. This universe, this world he was born into. It was violence with no reprieve, and despite it all, despite any necessity, despite the cruelty that persisted, he couldn't help but feel disgusting. He refused to believe that this was all there was. Endless fighting and death. He knew that the Eldar killed all of the people aboard the station, he knew they killed his fellow guardsman and would have killed him if they got the chance. He also knew that humanity sought to destroy everything that wasn't them; his commander made sure to repeat that to him over and over during training. He knew all of that, but this… she was just a child. She didn't have a say in this fucked up universe, just as he had no say in being drafted for a cosmic war filled with death. This was cruel, this was unforgiving… this was… this…

His commander stepped aside, his gaze still aimed at the girl.

"Argus, kill her."

Argus froze up as he held his lasgun. He instinctively pulled it up as if to aim, but this time he shook and found himself hesitate. He saw the girl, how scared she was, and how much she shook. She was just a damn child! She wasn't a soldier… she... wasn't whatever the hell that thing was, the 'wraithknight' or whatever his commander called it. She was a fellow prisoner in this fucked up universe! She was just…

"She's just a child…"

Commander turned around and gave Argus the coldest stare he had ever given anyone.

"A child? A child?! She is a xeno! An alien, who is bent on the destruction of all mankind! This is why we must eliminate them all before they do the same to us! You saw, didn't you guardsman? What happened to the crew of this station? To your fellow soldiers of the Emperor?"

Argus couldn't deny it, as he gritted his teeth and replied.

"Yes…"

Commander turned back to look at the cowering girl.

"She has grown up in a world that despises us Argus. There is no salvation for the xeno, only death. To the Eldar, her life would be more valuable than a thousand human children. Than a planets worth of human children. It doesn't matter to them, because we are human and they are Eldar! Now shoot her, before I punish you for heresy!"

Argus looked into the girl's eyes as she began to cry. Argus couldn't bring himself to do it. No, this universe was a cruel and twisted one. Humanity may very well need to kill the xeno, but it also killed itself in droves. It would sacrifice its own planets to be destroyed before it let whoever it fought win. It drafted thousands of people from their homes into service to fight in this endless fucking war. For an emperor that he did not know or understand, and yes these were the thoughts of a traitor. He had his choice revoked from him, twisted and changed into obedience to this. To be a soldier, who killed because he was told so. He obliged and did everything as he was directed up till this point. Argus didn't understand everything, he hardly understood his own species. He didn't know anything about the universe he lived in other than what he saw, what he was told. This girl… who was to say the same wasn't for her? Victims of horrible circumstance? If the Eldar killed humans, it was just the same as humans killing Eldar. Whether this was the right decision or not, Argus didn't know. But it would be his choice all the same.

"Of course, sir."

Argus pulled the trigger, and moments later, his commander fell to the ground dead. The Eldar girl screamed in terror as she had shut her eyes, expecting death. She didn't however, realize her life had been spared. Argus dropped his lasgun, quickly walked up to her and removed his helmet. He placed it over her head as she hardly resisted. She didn't understand what had happened, or why Argus had done what he had. To shoot his commander over her, an Eldar, whom she was told humans despised. Still she could not fight him, she hardly had the strength to move. Argus knelt down to her level as he looked at her, as concerned as her guardian who had set out to protect her.

Argus took a deep breath. This was foolish, but he wanted to give someone a chance. The chance he didn't have, to become something else than what this twisted universe wanted of him. He didn't know what this would cause, or what he had gotten into, but he would stay the course. And now, he and this Eldar girl were tied together.

"Listen to me, I won't hurt you. But you need to do as I say. Do not remove this helmet, and let me do all of the talking. I… I'll get us out of here. But you have to trust me. I know that… this is hard to understand. Hell I don't even know if you can understand me… but…"

Argus looked around for something to cover the girl's strange cloths with, and finally just pulled off his commander's cloak. He put it over the girl's shoulders as he helped her stand from the box.

"I won't let harm come to you ok? Things… I don't know what's going to happen. But, our best chance of getting out of here is if we do this together ok?"

The girl only nodded, understanding his words fluently. She was still a child, very young as Eldar went. Perhaps the youngest a normal human had ever met before. Still, she had no other options, this was it. This was her only course of action…

Just then, more guardsman came from behind as they walked into the room. They were the veterans, and strangely, they had no commander of their own. The one who looked to be in charge of the group, a tall and bulky man walked over to Argus.

"So, I'm guessing it's just you left huh? And… who's the girl?"

Argus slowly pushed her behind him.

"She's… a survivor. Probably the only one from the entire crew."

The veteran looked Argus over, and then the girl. He took a deep breath and then sighed.

"Damn. Tragedy never ends does it? But, we aren't a daycare. We're the guard. Who's going to watch her?"

Argus interrupted before any further inclinations could be made.

"I'll watch over her. I'll take responsibility for her."

The veteran sighed again.

"Well whatever. It's your responsibility. Just don't bring it up with those feckin' commanders. Me and the lads were escorting the servo lifts to secure the food crates. Didn't expect to find most everyone dead, though guess the sneaky bastards still are around the ship. Well, doesn't matter, we've managed to clean out most of the station. So, why don't you and the girl hitch a ride with us, seeing as you don't have a squad anymore?"

Argus could hardly believe his luck as he gently pulled the girl to him, still weary of the other veterans.

"Thank you…"

The man grinned, almost happily.

"Hey, were all together in this fecked up mess. Might as well try and do some good other than popping heads. Maybe I'll even make good with the Emperor. Now hurry up and get to one of the servo-lifts… though actually, real quick, what happened to your commander?"

Argus froze up again as he tried to think of a response, until he finally blurted out the best one he could find.

"He… he was killed by the Eldar during the attack."

The veteran raised an eye but to him it hardly mattered.

"Ah, well I hated the bastard. Guess I was just hoping he would have suffered a bit more you know? Ours got a bit to… uppity shall we say. On this ship, sure they had all the control they wanted, but here, accidents happen. Alright go on, we'll send you an' the girl with the first wave of the haulers."

Argus nodded as he tugged the girl along by the hand. She didn't resist, having no other options, but to follow along with the human, the guardsman, who saved her. What was to come of this, neither of them knew. Both were just as scared as the other, but for once Argus felt he had a purpose that was more than cannon-fodder. Still, the future still held so many things for the pair yet, which they could not foresee.

* * *

**_Okay, so this story may have gotten a bit bigger than I originally intended. Sorry for the long wait. Took me a while to finish this part, and then longer to look over it. Only have been able to work on it between school work and classes currently, so I apologize if some errors snuck past. Since this wasn't a planned fic I have been trying out a bunch of ideas, some better than others admittedly. I have a plot map of where its going, though I've added some things here and there (even removed some), but I only intend on having 3 parts so the next should be the end of this tale. This story is meant to be one about perspective which always changes based on whose point of view it is, of which 40k has plenty and I am always fascinated by that. Nobody ever really has the whole picture, well some do, but they are mysterious for now. Either way, I hope you enjoy it and as always feel free to comment._**

**_Wish you well wherever you are, take care_**


	25. A Guardsman's Purpose (Side Story Pt3)

A Guardsman's Purpose Part 3

How did she end up here? Laeria was only a child, only just entering her fortieth year. Of all of the possibilities, of all the paths that the weave could have given her, she found herself here. She could not have predicted where it took her. Well, perhaps if she was older she might have had a chance. She still had so much training to go in order to fulfill her role. To complete the path that her elders put upon her. But she couldn't have seen, not even any of her elders knew, what had come to pass. When their Craftworld was attacked and destroyed as if by enigma, the work of some shadow in the warp. That was the only way she found to rationalize its sudden destruction. She was only saved because she was sent away abruptly only a few cycles before her home was destroyed. She had been told she was important, and that something fierce and fateful was on its way.

She was taken away by her guardian, Denvae, and a small retinue far away into the void of space. Denvae was the member of the farseer's council which trained her to become one of them, and so she was chosen to be her caretaker. It was foretold, that Laeria was to lead the Eldar of her craftworld to a bright future. What that meant, nobody seemed sure, only that this path was destined for her, and she could, no, _she would_ have no other. Regardless of how she felt about it, or how much she had longed for something else. No, she was only told to accept this as destiny and was taken from her parents without so much as a moment of hesitation from them. To everyone around her, she was little more than a tool or a symbol of some bright future to pass. To that end, she was trained in seclusion from the others of her age, raised to be a figure of raised status as a Farseer. Not that she was very apt at it. Still, she had grown to be disciplined and strict, forced to mature far beyond her peers. While she didn't understand it, she still trained diligently. She listened and followed the directions given to her, driven by a sense of duty and purpose, for that was all she had. Yet, after it all, she still had doubt. She could not understand why this was to be her fate. Perhaps it was because she could not see the future herself, no matter how hard she tried. Still she was young, and her teachers all took far more years to even master the basics. How they then expected her, at such a young age, to even accomplish half of what they were capable of… it confused her. It frustrated her. But in her diligence and respect for the elders, she said nothing. Perhaps that is why this came to pass.

No. Who could have foretold such a tragedy? Their Craftworld was destroyed, and she only discovered the truth when Denvae insisted that they return to check on them. It was a foolish decision, especially for one as wise as she claimed to be, but she could see it on her face. She saw her emotions break through that rigid and cold exterior, as she felt some distant disturbance. It was nothing to the anguish that she saw and then felt when they arrived at what remained of their home. Laeria still remembered peering outside of the ship, into the cold void of space. Their Craftworld ripped open and spilling its contents, like blood pouring from a wounded corpse. The bodies of hundreds of thousands…she didn't even want to recall. Yet the memory persisted like a phantom that choked her throat. She was kept away from seeing much else, as Denvae went out with her warriors to seek survivors. When they returned, they came back with nearly a hundred of them, only several of which followed the path of the warrior.

When she thought things could get no worse, things changed again. Denvae began to declare Laeria as a savior figure, a leader, a symbol of renewal for the sake of the others she said. Yet, Laeria wasn't allowed to even speak with anyone, kept at the back of their ship in seclusion like the precious doll she was. Denvae explained that such treatment was intentional, that they needed a symbol, and she happened to be what the others needed. Something to be seen, to provide hope, but not to speak lest she shatter the illusion and reveal she was a scared, helpless little girl. At least until they could find their sister Craftworld, but everyone knew such wouldn't be an easy task. So it was that Laeria was forced upon the path of leader, when she was at her most scared and vulnerable. Not that she let those emotions surface enough to be noticeable. Her years being chastised for such things wouldn't let her. She couldn't reveal that she was a young, vulnerable child forced into a role she didn't understand. She had no choice, she was simply whatever the others needed. Still the turmoil in her psyche wouldn't stop, despite how hard she tried. Needless to say, Denvae did not notice her needs, nor did she seem to care in the slightest. She was a member of the Farseers council first, a teacher second, and her caretaker third. Laeria knew full and well, that if she was not prophesized to be so special, then she wouldn't have even given her the smallest moment of attention. She might as well be a doll…

Yet Denvae was the only person she had. The only one left whom she could consider close to her, for she had been secluded from all else. The other members of the council… they were all dead. Her parents… they were likely dead as well. She had no-one left but Denvae. Yet despite their dire situation, even then, their troubles did not end. They were attacked by a human ship as they scanned the ruins of the Craftworld. That was the first time that Laeria had ever met them outside of the stories she was told. Denvae became convinced that the destruction of their Craftworld was their doing, the 'monkeigh', lesser creatures who would stop at nothing to eliminate them all. Still she knew they would not stand a chance, and so they tried to escape. They couldn't do it in time, and the humans caught up to them. Denvae did what she had to, and without hesitation sacrificed her bodily form to allow them to escape, her soul only barely retrieved and placed within the confines of a wraitknight aboard their ship. Still the troubles didn't end, and they began to have difficulties sustaining all of the survivors they rescued. Yet while they were told to go hungry, Laeria was given proper meals. She was well cared for, despite the collective suffering beyond her room's door. All because she was told to be special. Laeria didn't know how to feel, and so kept quiet, and allowed such… she acted like the doll they wanted her to be.

In her spare time, Denvae told her stories of the humans, of all the horrid things they had done to the Eldar, of their arrogance and of the danger they posed. Every story more gruesome than the next, as Denvae would lose herself to memory and talk as if to a wall. Denvae frightened her. The bloodlust that simply exuded from her form as she told those stories… even her physical form was scary, unnatural and even more imposing in her walking construct of wraithbone. Worse still the details she included within her stories were enough to drive her mad, as her unstable emotions continued to probe her sanity. Denvae left no unsettling moment spared, let it be what humans did to captured Eldar, or the mass genocide of thousands… ultimately Laeria found it difficult to even sleep.

Then they arrived to that human station, such a large and imposing metal thing drifting out in the void. It circled a set of asteroids which drifted nearby, where she had overheard Denvae tell the others Orks had been seen. Still what was to come next only horrified her more. They were to board the station and procure supplies, and to Denvae… Laeria could only see her desire for vengeance emit from her like a cloud. A cloud that spread to all the others, as something dark and primal came from them. And worst of all, Laeria was taken along inside with them. The Aspect warriors went in first of course, and by the time she had actually stepped inside the station, not a human was left for her to actually see. Well… none alive. Even before she had entered, she could feel the terror and excitement of battle, she could feel the humans within the station. Like thousands of bright flames which flickered in the weave. One by one, those embers extinguished as they ceased to be. They were mercilessly killed, their pain and terror screamed within her young mind. Still she did her best to ignore it, holding onto the terrible stories that Denvae told her, of all the horrid things humans had done to the Eldar. She told herself that these were the ones who destroyed her Craftworld, everyone she cared about, killed her parents, killed everyone she had known, and trapped Denvae within the shell of a wraithknight. But it didn't change how horrible she felt, as her body shook and wavered at the mere thought of the brutality her guardian indulged within. Her latent psychic abilities haunting her, as they brought all of these feelings to her in force. Something she was told to never allow, to keep the predators of the warp away. She was only a child though, she didn't know how else to feel! Was it so much better for the Eldar to… the humans that her brethren slaughtered so… violently?

She still remembered as she was heralded within the station. How Denvae was covered in the red stains of blood that dripped across her wraithbone construct. Fresh and thick, like a mucus as it dripped onto the ground. She did not even seem to acknowledge that Laeria had arrived at first. She remembered the glimpse of what she wasn't supposed to see. A single door on the station open, just wide enough to reveal its wretched contents. The foul smell of death and decay thick in the air as it leaked out of it. Inside the piled bodies of humans reached the ceiling, many of them broken and twisted, with holes and bones, organs and blood meshed together in a dead mound. Yet what struck her most, was that she never imagined them to look so similar to the Eldar. Certainly not as defined and lack of Edlar beauty, though the blood and gore made such things difficult to judge, but they resembled so closely. It was enough to send shockwaves within her mind and into her very soul. That the Eldar were capable of such brutality… that they so easily killed them all. This was a moment where her mind snapped. She could not help but let out her anguish, as her body gave up on her and she collapsed.

The last thing she recalled before her consciousness shut was Denvae angrily yelling at the others for not hiding the bodies well enough. Such a thing to say… When she awoke, she was still within the station, resting on a crude bed in a small chamber. The Aspect warrior who watched over her, named Dilrea, told her that a single human managed to destroy their ship having activated one of the many cannons that defended the station to fire. Only a few Eldar were killed, but now all of them were stranded aboard the station until they could find a way to escape.

Denvae seemed to change after that. Her guardian, for the first time since they had left their destroyed home, asked her how she felt. Laeria however, didn't know what to respond, Denvae's cold and unnatural body, still stained in blood, made it difficult to even speak with her. Dilrea soon became the one that Laeria spoke with the most, as she was designated as her guard. In the short time that she knew her, she grew close. Dilrea treated her with a kindness and compassion she rarely got from the rigidness of her guardian. Someone lost to their path, Dilrea was set on being a warrior to the day she died. She constantly asked her how she felt, and eventually she even shared her true feelings and emotions. For the first time, it felt as if someone treated her as just a child, not some prophetic figure. She understood how she felt, how confined and scared she was. Laeria had come to like her, she was the closest thing to having something resembling a parental figure that cared about her. If only it didn't have to end. Why did judgement have to come for them? Why…

The humans came back. She remembered how much of a whirlwind it was, as she was taken by Denvae and Dilrea into one of the furthest reaches of the crude metal station. A storeroom, filled with the crates of food they had been plundering. She sensed the presence of many thousands coming close, and though her elders didn't tell her, she just knew the humans returned. Denvae told her things would be ok, that she had to stay put and not leave her side. Dilrea however, left her there with a promise to return. A promise she knew she couldn't keep. All of them seemed to know it, but whether it was a matter of pride or a genuine effort to survive, every Eldar on the station was set to fight. Laeria didn't want her to go, but Dilrea was set on her path and so she went. Only she and Denvae left in that storeroom after that. She then had to come to grips with the reality that all the others whom they had come with took up weapons to protect her. Many of them weren't warriors, had never even treaded the path, but this forced their hand. Laeria could do nothing but sit there, beside her guardian as she reached out and felt. Felt her protectors die, one by one, as the humans boarded the station and began to clear it of Eldar. Every death was followed by a screech that chilled her soul as she felt them fade into oblivion, the soulstones they wore crushed one at a time. But the worst of all of them, was when Laeria felt Dilreas life end, and her soul torn away shortly after. Denvae felt it too, and her anger only grew. It was a matter of time then, that the humans fund themselves at the entrance to the storeroom she was held within. It was there that her guardian finally said her last goodbye.

When the doors opened, Laeria didn't hide. She didn't move at all. She was terrified, scared of what came for her. Everyone she knew was gone, killed and taken away. It was her turn to die as well, she simply knew it. Still as she saw the two human soldiers walk towards her, both bloodied and full of wounds, one missing an entire arm, she froze. A brief recollection of Denvaes stories frozen in her mind. What would they do to her? She didn't know… and then the one who seemed in charge, the one without the arm, he began to yell at her. Though she shouldn't have, in her fear she reached out into his mind and she saw horrible things. Things done by the Eldar that only further crushed her spirit, that humans entire family killed in front of his eyes… as he berated her she said nothing, she gave up. There was no good in this, there was nothing. She was but a child! Yet she learned the horrible truth of this galaxy, and she had to deal with it. She was without purpose, a doll that failed to live up to her purpose. So, through her shivering she didn't move and waited, waited for the two of them to at last, end her anguish. When the human without an arm told the other to shoot her, she closed her eyes and prepared for death. She held onto the soulstone in her hand, and wondered for just a moment whether she would be eaten like the others, consumed by the foul monsters of the warp. She did not expect what would actually come to transpire. She heard a loud blast and then opened her eyes.

The human with the weapon didn't shoot her, he shot the other one. She didn't understand, by all accounts humans were supposed to hate Eldar, and anything else that wasn't them. Denvae was sure to tell her such over and over. Yet there she was, sat on a box, having soiled herself in her fear, as she watched with a trembling heart at the human who stood in front of her. He dropped his weapon and knelt before her as he told her to follow along, putting his helmet over her head and covering her in the bloodied coat of the human he killed. When other humans came, he held her behind him and lied to them. Silently, he took her with him through the hallway on small vehicles that treaded along the ground on tracks. They were filled with crates, and he had her placed within one, the tight confinement making her mind run wild at what was to become of her. Yet she did nothing to halt it, for she had nothing else, no other chance, and if this was a ruse… she was doomed to suffer it. The rest of the trip a long blur, as she remembered nothing but the darkness of the crate which surrounded her, until she eventually she was met with a bright light as the same human looked down at her. He quickly pulled her out of the box, and as quickly as possible had her follow him through the bowls of the ship he had come from. Humans were everywhere, many of them very similar to the one who took her, dressed in the same armor. Many of them celebrating as they were handed out small packages. The crew, as far as she could guess, given how they were dressed differently, also partook in the excitement.

It was only a short time however that she was here, before she noticed several other psychic presences aboard the vessel, and as she was trained her mind automatically took measures to hide her presence. The darkness of the ship grew steadily as the human pulled her along, until the number of humans decreased to none. They came to a small crevice in the ships interior wall, concealed by the darkness. Here too he pulled her along and through swaths of wires and pipes, they came into a small box-like room, lit up by some unseen source above. Here she feared the worst, having been brought to such a secluded place, but nothing happened. The human only told her to wait there and left again. Too scared to do anything else she waited, and looked at the oddities that were around the room, the crudely made chair, the random assortment of seemingly useless objects scattered about. Then the human returned, and he gave her food. In silence she ate, as did he, across from her and eventually time continued awkwardly between them until he laid down on the cloth that covered part of the metal floor. He looked up at her and told her she was safe to sleep if she wanted, and then he himself began to sleep. And this is where she was. Reminiscing on all the things that brought her here to this place in time, watching as this human slept soundly. What did he intend to do with her? From what Denvae had told her, it was better to be dead. What then would she do about it? What then was she supposed to do? She didn't know…

She spotted the sharp angular piece of metal which was among the collection of useless objects that this human seemed to collect. She grabbed it in her hands, it's sharp and crude nature almost cutting into her soft skin merely by touching it. She held it firmly as she slowly skootched her way towards the human. He was a soldier… one of the ones who helped kill those she knew. Perhaps he was the one who killed Dilrea. She could kill him now before he did anything to her… and then… and then what? Her hands shook as she raised the metal piece above her head and looked down at the sleeping human. Much to her surprise he stirred.

Argus didn't actually sleep. His own thoughts clouded his mind, and though he laid down and closed his eyes, he was wide awake. He hardly knew what he was doing, or what he intended to do with the Eldar girl he saved. He managed to bring her here to this place, his only haven. Whether it was wise or not didn't really bother him, it was his decision and he accepted the consequences. Still he knew nothing of the Eldar, and he wondered if the girl hated him. Humans were supposed to hate them, so it only served to reason that the Eldar would hate humans in kind. When he heard her move about, messing with his collection of things, he wondered if she looked for something to kill him with. Why wouldn't she? She was an Elder and he was a human… but he didn't seem to care. If he died here like this, it would have been due to his consciousness and his decisions, not those of the people above him.

"If you are going to kill me, please get it over with. I don't have any regrets. Well, a lot actually, but… you're an Eldar after all. How could I blame you?"

Laeria dropped the metal as it fell onto the metal ground with a clang. She pushed herself away from the human as she looked at her trembling hands. So he wasn't asleep after all…

"What do you plan to do with me? Why haven't you killed me or… or… worse…"

Argus sat up, the strain that he had put on his body beginning to weigh him down. So she could talk? In his tongue no less… she really was just a scared child. Though, that she would think he was capable of such things was woefully expected. He wasn't that type of person, he would never bring himself to do such horrible things to anyone. Let alone a lone scared child, a victim of this insane reality like he was.

"This universe is a big place isn't it? There certainly are some humans who would have done that to you… but I am not one of them. I don't know what you've been told but there is no such things as absolutes in this damn universe. We are all different, every human, and every Eldar I'm sure. As much as this universe wants to make us one thing or another. Humans have done terrible things to the Eldar, but so have the Eldar done to the human's right? Were all trapped in this same reality regardless. I won't hurt you, and I could not stand letting a child be another victim of this endless cycle of violence. Not that I know where to go from here…"

Argus was unsure why he started to rant to this little girl, turning away as he looked out at the darkness of the entrance to his haven. They would have gotten all that they came for soon enough and then probably leave…

He looked back at the little girl who only stared at him, still clenching her cloths as she pressed herself against the wall opposite him. He didn't really give her many options… he knew the truth that this was a difficult situation for her. It was selfish to bring her here, trapping her in this ship surrounded by humans who truly would kill her or worse. Regardless, he would find a way to make things better. He just had too. Still, she… if she seriously wanted to take his life, she was free to choose what she wanted.

"I will do my best to provide for you here. You though… you can do what you feel is right. I won't stop you. I will let you know that I have killed Eldar, but I won't bring myself to hurt a child who had no say in this. Make your own choice."

Laeria looked at the human with a burgeoning sense of curiosity. She still kept to her side of the room as she scooted herself tightly against the wall. Though her soiled clothes began to make her feel sick and uncomfortable. She watched him, curious as to why he did what he had done. We were all trapped in this universe together, he said. That seemed to echo in her head as she watched him lay back down. Why?

"Who are you?"

Argus took a deep breath.

"A nameless soldier in the ranks of the Imperial Guard. That's all there is to me anymore. Rank and file, a guardsman, trained and taught to kill what my superiors tell me to."

Laeria could feel the disdain he had in his voice. Still, he wasn't what he called himself. He didn't kill her. He killed his superior to protect her.

"Then why didn't you kill me?"

Argus closed his eyes as he gave a single chuckle.

"Because above all of those things I am also a traitor with too much of a caring heart. A liability probably, something that shouldn't exist in this damn… I didn't want to be this, a soldier destined to die on some battlefield away from home. No matter how much I shouldn't, I still care. I still recall the memories of my life before this fondly, and hold onto some shred of my humanity despite its insistence I throw it away."

Laeria didn't know that the humans were forced into being soldiers. The Eldar always had a choice about what they wanted to be. Well… most anyway. She never had that chance. She didn't want to be where she was either, even if being called important inadvertently saved her by bringing her here. But such could only be temporary. Still, she seemed to have some more in common with this human than she anticipated. If nothing else, she wanted to distract herself from the turmoil in her mind.

"What's your name? You have to have one."

Argus sighed.

"My name is Argus. My mother gave me that name, a long time ago. Here though, I am just a guardsman. Still… I suppose it's nice to share it with someone who won't use it at the brunt of an order. Since you asked mine… what's yours?"

Laeria hesitated for a second. What would be the purpose of hiding it though?

"I… You can call me Laeria."

The two found themselves fall back into silence. However the tension that once pulled between them disappeared. Both began to wonder more about the other, and of the worlds that were entirely different between them. Argus didn't know anything about the Eldar, least of which whether the girl was a child really, given how she talked so well. Still, he had known the more wealthy back home to speak really well… even he himself had gotten some education growing up, and he was supposed to be nothing but a warehouse worker. Laeria began to wonder at the human world, and how it came to fight so furiously with the Eldar and everything else. How there could be those like Argus amongst them. Both of them started to speak at the same time as their curiosity grew too much.

"Why does-"

"How old-"

The two of them stopped as they waited for the other to finish. When it was apparent that they were going nowhere, Argus pushed himself back off the ground despite how much he wanted to fall asleep.

"How old are you? How can you even talk to me?"

Laeria was taken back by the question.

"I'm in my fortieth year, still rather young… and I was taught how to speak your language by my… by my guardian. Though it is a lot slower than I usually speak, so it's a little hard to keep up… how old are you, Argus?"

Fortieth year? He looked at the girl, how small she was, and how she looked just like an eight or ten year old girl. Then again he didn't know much about them, did he?

"You are old enough to be two times my age. How long do you Eldar even live?"

Laeria was surprised to learn she was older than the human that saved her. He didn't look like a child. They didn't grow like they did? He seemed so much more experienced than a twenty year old should have been. She had started her training to be a farseer at that age.

"Usually around two-thousand years. Don't humans…"

Argus laughed at the absurdity of it. Such a thing wasn't even a consideration for humans as far as he knew.

"No. Humans are lucky to get past a tenth of that. Well, most of us anyway. I'm sure there are some out there that live that long."

Laeria hadn't realized that such differences even existed. Then again, the only thing she had ever heard from Denvae was the things they had done to the Eldar, and why they were dangerous. What else didn't she know? These questions distracted her mind from the turmoil she had gone through before, and the remembrance of those she lost. Momentary relief, but well needed for her young mind. She was here now, and there was no getting out of this situation. She could only do what she was capable of, and so she decided to continue asking questions of Argus.

"Would…. Can we continue to talk like this? To answer my questions?"

Argus took a deep breath. For once, he actually seemed to enjoy the prospect of conversing with someone aboard this ship.

"Why not?"

* * *

Elsewhere within the ship was another conversation. This one was about what was to be done, and a regrettable truth that had to be discussed. Lord Farune was elated with the success of his guardsmen, sitting contently in front of Captain Farlo's desk. Captain Farlo was relieved, for the first time in such a long time. His ship was restocked, fully resupplied and fit to continue its service. Most importantly, his legacy was saved. He protected, what was in his eyes, a valuable asset for the Imperium even with the low quality of troops he currently had, and would continue to be able to lead as captain. Still, now that the operation was completed, there was yet one matter that had to be resolved. Something he hoped would fully rid him of his problems. He held his hands tightly together, laying his elbows onto the desk. His head rested softly over his fingers as he stared at Farune, who seemed so elated by his success that Farlo worried if he forgot what had to come next.

"Well then, it seems I misjudged your guardsmen. They performed amiably, and succeeded in taking back the station."

Farune frowned, as he realized where this was going.

"Ah. So you plan to leave my guardsman here to continue manning the station? And not just my guardsmen…"

Farlo took a deep breath, though he didn't move his gaze. While Farune had been instrumental in helping him stabilize the situation regarding his ship… he was also a liability. Someone who knew what had transpired, and whom understood the seriousness of Farlo's transgressions as well as his disregard for the orders sent to him by the administorum. He was dangerous, and in Farlos eyes, their relationship was best to be at its end.

"You can fully serve the Imperium by manning this station here, while keeping an eye upon your guardsmen."

Farune pulled on the brim of his hat.

"So, this is what it's come to is it? You try to cover up your mistakes by leaving me here? I would better serve the Imperium fighting and dying in some battle in some distant world. Merely a hundred of my guardsmen will be more than enough to keep the station under control until further reinforcement arrives."

Farlo pulled back and rested on his chair.

"Do you understand that there was enough food and other resources to fully stock my ship?"

Farune narrowed his eyes as he looked at the Captain. He didn't like what this was implying.

"Yes, at the cost at severely limiting the resources left on the station. It's a massive structure, but at the current moment, with the resources left in the station, there is only enough to support a small group-merely a few hundred or so. Yet, that's not the number you intend to leave here, is it?"

Farlo felt the laspistol he had holstered beneath his desk.

"Your guardsmen had their battle. Now it is time that I leave them, and continue on to continue my mission. Acquire more, 'quality', guardsmen elsewhere."

Farune smirked.

"Oh? Fearful my guardsmen will bring the reputation of your glorious vessel down? Such arrogance, captain. But, don't forget, you were a part of this from the beginning. Leaving me won't spare you. Not unless, you decide to destroy the station as soon as me and my guardsmen are left behind. No evidence, and the perfect excuse. Isn't that right?"

Farlo's hand carefully gripped the handle of the pistol, taking care to keep his movements to a minimum. This was a dreadful part of his profession, but he would not hesitate. His legacy meant too much to him to be tarnished by mistakes, so he would make sure they could never surface. The station was an important asset, important enough that the loss of all the guardsmen to take it wouldn't be suspect within the Imperial records. The destruction of the station would be seen as but a common measure often taken to ensure assets were not taken.

"You cannot deny that this would be a mercy. Better than leaving you all to starve."

Farunes frown slowly creeped into a smile as he rolled his shoulders, sitting comfortably into his chair. He didn't expect to have to resort to this so soon.

"Well then, will you pull out that laspistol and shoot me already, captain?"

Farlo gripped the handle of his laspistol firmly, but did not pull it. He froze as he looked at Farune. That grim smile on his face as he looked at him, it made him pause with fear. What did he do?

"What manner of trickery have you concocted? You are but a lord commissar. I am the captain of one of the Imperium's holy vessels!"

Farune tipped his hat as he threw it to the ground. Then he reached into his coat and pulled out the symbol at the end of the necklace which he wore. Farlo could not do anything but stare at the shining metal object that danged from the end. It was the I of the inquisition.

"You… you are no Inquisitor!"

Farune chuckled to himself as he stood up.

"I'm not a lot of things captain. Truth be told, I'm not even a Lord Commissar. My original name wasn't Farune. Hell, you can get really far taking peoples places, you know? Thing is, I climbed my way up to where I am through sheer intellect. I started out as an acolyte, oh so long ago… to one Lord Farune, an actual Inquisitor. I was one of three, not that the other two lasted very long. They weren't cunning enough to survive, but I was. Yes, I was. I did everything right. Everything! But then, that blasted fool thought I was too unstable to take his place. Unstable he said…"

Farune chuckled to himself as he pressed his hand onto Farlo's desk.

"I am a servant! A noble, and loyal servant of the Emperor! Damn it all, I deserved to succeed him. But no, he was greedy and wanted all the power to himself. I can do so much more for the Imperium at large! And that is exactly what I will do. He tried to have me executed, but I was cleverer than he thought I was. I managed to learn a quaint little, swapping, trick. You know what that is?"

Farlo slowly edged the laspistol from its place. At the same time, he reached for the alarm button hidden within his chair.

"Would it be treason, Farune?"

Farune shook his head as his eyes made contact with Farlos. A shimmering glare of power shined behind them, and Farlo genuinely felt unsettled by the man before him.

"No, not exactly. See, my master was an Inquisitor of the Ordo-Xenos. Studied the foul abominations and all of that, collecting quite a treasure-trove of artifacts. One of these, artifacts, but a simple little orb. And while he insisted that such things be left alone, I knew that I would do anything to serve the Imperium. Even if it meant using Xenos technology for myself. If it was to the betterment of mankind, why shouldn't I? It seems simple enough to me. But he would have preferred I died, for seeking too deeply into things I should not have. Well, it was his mistake."

He flicked the side of his Inquisitorial pendant as Farlo noticed the small orb in place of the skull which normally would have been there.

"What is this heresy?"

Farune sighed.

"You could have avoided this, captain. I was happy playing the part of Lord Commisar. But, having studied you, and now seeing your true nature, I realize… you are too arrogant and prideful to effectively serve the Imperium. So constrained by your own desires that you would sacrifice Imperial assets to keep your legacy free. Well, no more. Consider this the Emperors judgement."

Farlo pulled the laspistol and stood in a single motion. He pulled it up to shoot Farune, but found that it didn't work. Farune reacted quickly as he pulled a knife from a pocket at his side and stabbed it into Farlos shoulder.

"Don't worry, Captain, I will be sure to continue you're Legacy for you, and serve the Imperium dutifully."

He pressed the orb on his pendant close to his eye as a bright flash enveloped the room. Farune, or at least as he called himself in his current body, never liked the prospect of using his Soul Gem. An ancient xeno artifact of considerable power, which allowed those who knew how to use it, to swap both their conscious and their soul with that of another. It was his greatest accomplishment, breaking the code which described how to use it. If only his master had just accepted him for the loyal servant he was! Then he would not have had to swap through bodies, over and over again in his bids to assist humanity. His last body once occupied by a Lord Commissar of little tact, who wasted the lives of his guardsmen. He rectified that. But now, he would become a Captain of an entire Vessel, dedicated to the transportation of Imperial Guard from world to world. He couldn't help but feel just a little excited for the change of pace, and for the new role he would have. He would play it wonderfully.

As the bright flash ended, Farlo grabbed the necklace from Farune and pulled it off of his neck. Then, using their dazed state he reached into his coat and grabbed the boltgun, left loose in its holster. With no remorse, and with no moment to spare, he fired repeatedly into Farune's chest, the body falling backward as it plopped to the ground in a bloody mess. Farlo sighed as he looked at the boltgun in his hand.

"It was a good thing that I left this loose."

He smiled as he looked to the bloodstained I pendant.

"And it is always a shame when I have to use this. But, it could not be helped Captain. You forced my hand."

He stuffed his pendant into his breast pocket, as he looked at the body on the ground. The doors busted open as several Voidmsen ran inside, their lasguns held up as they cleared the room. The leader of them, looked to Farlo.

"Captain, are you ok?"

Farlo continued his gaze at the dead body.

"Captain you say… yes, I am the Captain. You were late, Voidsman. But no matter, I killed the traitor. Never liked the bastard. He insisted we leave the Guardsmen here to die, when they would be better served delivered elsewhere. Ah no matter, clean this mess up. I must address the crew and the Guardsmen. We will be stationed here for a time, as we await orders. Though, send a message would you, establishing that the station was secured."

The voidsman nodded as he bowed.

"Of course Captain. But uh, there is one more thing. We have noticed the appearance of a Rogue Trader in the local system. They tried to contact us…"

Farlo thought about it for a moment. A rogue trader. Yes… this could serve useful.

"Ah, well reply to them. Tell them to set a course for this station. Tell them to expect a… warm welcome. We have some business to discuss."

The voidsman seemed momentarily confused. He knew far better than to question his superiors however, and so with a single nod he stood straight. He turned around without another word and ran off to carry out his orders. The voidsmen that remained picked up the dead body as they pulled it away. The blood unfortunately still stained the ground, but it was a minor inconvenience. Farlo left alone as he looked at his reflection in the monitor of the main console. He touched his face, feeling his now rough features.

"If only you looked better than this Farlo. Oh well, I cannot help such things. If this is the mask I must now wear, then so be it. I will continue to be a loyal servant of the Emperor, now and forever."

* * *

None knew of what transpired between the Captain and the Lord Commissar. Nearly several terran months going by since they had reclaimed the station. Only a small number of Guardsmen left inside the station, while everyone else was to remain on the ship. The death of the Lord Commissar a very quiet affair, told to everyone once over the intercom system, and then promptly ignored. It was actively hushed and punished if one were to inquire. Not that much anyone cared to do so. More surprising was that the crew were allowed to intermingle with the Guardsmen more openly as they were told they would remain docked at the station until further notice. The procedure to dock the massive vessel with the floating station a long and complex one, but which went off without problem. The guardsmen put under stringent rules, though not as rigid as they were before. The bad treatment they had received blamed upon the Lord Commissar who had gone crazy, as far as the rumor went anyway. The Captain praised as a heroic figure among the guardsmen, portrayed to be one who cared for all under his command. Life settling into a strange daze, where there was little for the Guardsmen to do other than to train and mingle freely with the crew. The sudden abundance of resources, changed the policies of the entire ship. The restriction on rations and water changed back to their standard levels, not that the guardsmen knew such was the treatment they normally would have gotten.

For Argus, the shift was eerie and uncertain. He could not help but feel unsettled. Such a drastic shift in treatment was hard for him to wrap his mind around, and it felt like some longwinded trap. But, his thoughts often shifted to the Eldar girl he saved. To Laeria. He dedicated himself to being able to provide for her, at least until he could figure out what to do, and find a way for them to get away entirely. Not that it seemed possible anytime soon. Still, he was cautious with every action he took, and was always mindful of being watched. He stayed to the dark side of the ship, those areas where he could move around unwatched and unquestioned. Every day he had to report for training, the strictness of their regiment much harsher, but the down time afterwards much less controlled. Regardless, the veterans who had helped him before seemed to continue their assistance. When asked about the girl, he only said that he took her to one of the crewmen families aboard the ship, which seemed more than enough to satisfy their curiosity. Still, since they were now allowed to talk with the crewmen, he managed to procure more goods. The first of which was clothes for the girl, seeing as she had nothing but the soiled ones that screamed xenos. It was at the cost of making himself out to be of the unsightly variety, but he managed to acquire them.

When Laeria changed her clothes, she looked just like a normal human girl. Though they could do nothing about her pointed ears, or the unnatural beauty that she had. Still, Laeria was grateful to have a change of clothes. Though the human fabric was rough on her delicate skin and not nearly as comfortable as anything she had from the Eldar. But she would not complain, hearing how much Argus had done to get them for her. He was her sole companion, and during the beginning of every 'day', she would meditate as she was trained to. In the latter half when he returned, he would speak to her of his day, and in turn she would speak to him of stories from her past. He always seemed amazed at how much their two worlds were different, and how many experiences she had. Conversely, she found Argus to be just as fascinating, though he had not lived nearly as long. The story he told her, of how he came to be on the ship long and saddening to her. Much of what she heard and saw about the humans was woefully tragic, though she could not understand why the human leaders would treat their fellow beings so cruelly. As Argus explained, some of it was necessary, and some was just human nature. Some things, he simply didn't know. He never denied to her that humans were imperfect, in fact he seemed very quick to tell her that they could be very dangerous and flawed. Still, in Argus, Laeria saw something that showed humans weren't completely bad.

Yet, as she heard more and more, and even as she began to tell Argus of her home… she began to find parallels that pained her. She was always told that the Eldar race were the ones who had right to the Galaxy, the oldest and wisest race. She remembered Denvae telling her that mistakes had been made in the past, but that the Eldar were the rightful heirs to the universe. The Eldar were the pinnacle of creation, above the lesser races, who fought and bickered amongst themselves, and were destined for death. As she heard more from Argus however, even in his limited experience, she saw comparisons so much more alike the Eldar than she thought. The power struggles, the belief of superiority, the disdain for others unlike them, the claim of righteousness in their actions, their arrogance, the brutality given to their enemies, and the belief of entitlement to a universe that actively hated them, all of it was in the Eldar too. Certainly, the Eldar seemed to care more about their people, but the Eldar were… she was always told they were superior to every other race. The lesser races plagued the universe, and prevented the Eldar from reclaiming what was once theirs. Devnae always told her that the Eldar were the true ones, the ones who deserved it all. There was a big mistake, a long time ago, but such was long gone and dealt with. Not that she told her what that mistake was. They were the oldest, the wisest and the most civilized of all the races, the others nothing but beasts hoping to usurp them. But she could not deny that the Eldar caused much pain and misery… how selfish they were. The humans too, and Argus was the one to tell her, were not innocent either. Not by any stretch of the word.

It was a cycle of violence, one that could never end. Every side needed to do many terrible things, and so many had already been done that there was no justice. The Eldar could not escape, for they were always on the run, and though they stayed away from violence as far as she had seen, that didn't change the atrocities they caused either. The Eldar's beliefs would lead them to fight, and forever be on the run for their actions. The humans too… they were embroiled in war, they were easily influenced and they cared little for their own lives. Argus told her how they would draft people into military service by the planet full and destroy entire worlds… the humans were dangerous, led by what Laeria could only see as monsters. But it was the product of this universe, and being away from the Eldar teachings for so long… being able to see the universe through the eyes of someone else in Argus, she came to see the futility of it all. How every side made justifications, every side was arrogant in their right to the universe, every side perpetuated the endless violence. There was no choice for many, and she was included. Argus…was only here because of circumstances set long before his birth, and Laeria too found the weave of fate cold and uncaring.

Still, she had come to be very close with Argus. A human, an enemy, but as time progressed she stopped seeing him as nothing else but a good companion. He gave her a reason to push on despite the futility. As he did, if they were to be stuck in an uncaring universe… why didn't they fo what they believed and make their own choices? She saw his genuine nature, and the care he took in watching over her. Like a father to a daughter… though she was older than he was, he still was careful in what he said, and treated her as she was, but a child. She often found herself vulnerable, her emotions becoming too intense for her… and Argus would notice, and then try to calm her. She still recalled a day when she thought of Dilrea, and her emotions began to pound heavy in her heart. Though she tried to hold back these emotions, she could not, and when Argus found her he did not ask her why she wept. He sat beside her, and hugged her, without a word, and without a wonder, he stayed beside her. He was a kind and compassionate human, trapped within unfortunate circumstances. She had become fond of him, whether it was correct or not of her to do so. He really became a… a friend. Someone who took the time to listen to her, to talk and converse, even when he lacked words at times. She had not felt so close to another, since Dilrea. She knew his intentions were pure, having reached out with her powers to see. Still, she did her best to suppress her presence in the warp, though it was more difficult than her training made it seem.

She did not tell Argus either, for Denvae told her that above all the humans despised the 'psyker', those who had connection to the warp. Though she doubted Argus even knew what that was… it terrified her, the thought of losing yet someone else she had grown used to. Human or not, it hardly mattered anymore. She was away from the influence of her elders, to decide for herself what she believed. And the universe was a… horrid place. Yet, as Argus had said when they first met, she would come to make her own decisions, and her own mind of what was right and wrong. Whether it spelled her eventual doom or not she wasn't sure, but nothing was promised but death it seemed, at least in this universe. He saved her, when he shouldn't have, and she came to think of him as a companion when she should have hated him. She too then, would decide for herself.

She truly did find herself enjoying the time she talked with Argus, and equally, she saw his emotions lighten around her. Humans were always so very loose with their expressions, much more than the Eldar. Though she wondered if the humans felt as deeply as Eldar did, for she knew her feelings could become all encompassing. Either way, Argus wore his emotions and was easy for her to read. She had become so comfortable that she found herself speak her normal speed at times, as if talking with another Eldar. He found it amusing, which was confusing to her, but it made her happy that someone else enjoyed her company. Something which was so rare since she was taken by the Farseer Council and secluded. She was free to be who she was… whoever that was supposed to be. Though, neither she nor Argus could deny the reality of their situation. However long they managed to survive… she only hoped it would last. But such things were rarely guaranteed.

On one particular day, there was something remiss about the ship. Argus left early to discover what had transpired, and found himself assembled into a procession in one of the docking bays. All of the guardsmen were put within square formations before the docking bay door, their commanders in front as they waited for something. The chaff rarely heard much of anything about their superior's motives, and so went along with it as any other order. They waited there, standing in attention for a long time as the guardsmen began to wonder what was going on. Argus found himself increasingly nervous at the prospect. Were they going somewhere else? Were they preparing for another operation? He didn't know. Something he found rather odd, considering he would have simply stood with acceptance before… before he met Laeria. He felt responsible for her, and the longer they stood the more he began to think about the prospect of if he were to die. The reality that he would be leaving Laeria behind with nothing, and in a place she couldn't escape. She was a child, even if she was older than he was. To be left alone in this circumstances… he bit his tongue as he tried to keep focus on whatever the hell was going on. Still, it was silent as everyone in the docking bay waited, and waited for who knows what. The commanders had to know, they just didn't tell them what it was about. Argus could only assume it was something deemed above them. He knew better, as all the others around him did, to keep quiet and wait. The silence only brought back more thoughts however, as Argus found himself worrying for the future. A future he didn't think about much before, expecting a horrible death to be the only end result. Yet here he was, saving a young Eldar girls life, and beginning to care about her like… at times he found himself talk to her as if she was human, as if she was something akin to a daughter. He found himself enjoying his time talking with her, thinking about her wellbeing even over his own. Yet, the circumstances around him, his reality as a guardsman of the Imperial Guard, only began to truly frighten him. Where once he was accepting of death as a pawn, he found himself hoping for more, to continue living peacefully. Such, he knew was probably impossible, and however long he could keep these circumstances up… he didn't know. He didn't want to leave Laeria alone, and worse he didn't want her to suffer the consequences of his choice to save her. One horrid thought suddenly in his mind that he quickly tried to erase.

Would all of this have been avoided had he simply shot her? He would not have put either of them in this position. He would not have grown attached to her, or let her become attached to him… No, he didn't regret it! Fuck that thought! This was his choice dammit… yet it didn't stop the newfound worry, or the responsibility of the purpose he created being a heavy weight on his shoulders. Yet, a churning, sickly feeling like that of guilt swirled in his gut and refused to leave. The more he stood in silence, surrounded by his fellow guardsmen the more he found himself unsettled. Thankfully, he had the right distraction as the docking bay doors opened to reveal a large ship which pushed its way inside. It was far larger than any of the transport shuttles, and took up nearly half of the entire docking bay. Despite its size, the ship landed in front of the procession with a surprisingly soft clank. Then Argus noticed a large man surrounded by decorated commanders and voidmsan of seemingly high rank at the back of the procession of guardsmen. The commanders at the front of the Guardsmen all stood in salute, and by reflex so did all those behind them, Argus included.

"Present for the Captain of our fine vessel!"

That man was the captain? Argus had never seen him before. Whoever was on the ship that docked was important enough to warrant his presence? Argus glanced at the massive ship, its long and smooth surface nothing like the bulky box that was the maw. It came to a rounded point at its front end, emblazoned with a golden eagles head welded onto its surface. The slender sides of the ship lined with two long flat structures along its width. Large turrets pressed into its frame along the top side of its body. A set of small doors on its side, which opened as a metal ramp slowly descended down. Argus could only wonder whom the ship carried, or why they had met them here. Not that he could do anything other than watch.

What he did not know was that this was the Rogue Trader ship, The Gilded Eagle, the pride of the Lancast family for hundreds of generations. The active captain a man named Roland Lancast IX, an eccentric by even the accounts of Rogue traders. His crew a combination of xenos mercenaries and human specialists alike, not that he would reveal his xeno's affiliation here, or make note of his impressive artifact collection. He stepped out of his ship onto the loading ramp besides his two trusted companions. Lady Mara, a free blade of House Valiant, who had remained in his service ever since she learned of the destruction of her home world, and Remora Vincent a damn good assassin he had come across in his travels. These were the only two he had asked to come with him to meet the captain of this transport vessel, who so strongly insisted upon meeting him here at this remote station. The reason for which, he would be sure to shed light upon. Still, he didn't like playing the little power games of other captains, and so he didn't move from the top of his ramp. If the captain of the ship wanted to meet him, then he could come to him. After all he docked his entire Gilded Eagle so seamlessly onto their ill-sized bay, even if it was against his own crews warnings. The three of them dressed in their usual blue uniforms, Roland wearing the additional cape and a Commissar's hat he had 'borrowed' a while back.

Lady Mara looked at Roland with an annoyed glare as she stood behind him.

"Must you truly act so childish Roland? We are in the presence of another envoy of the Imperium, not a World Governor. Don't you think we should be more accommodating?"

Roland rolled his eyes.

"You worry too much, Mara. But I know you as the 'noble' sort just hate these little games. Why do you suppose I play them so?"

Remora Vincent coughed into her hand to get her captains attention.

"Please, the both of you, act proper. And Vincent, you know that she is right. Even I couldn't take down all of these soldiers if you somehow managed to anger the Captain with your little 'games'. Remember, all of our lives are at stake here."

Roland sighed.

"Hey, we survived the Voltis Prime incident didn't we? And he had entire legions of gangers."

Remora shoved the tip of her hidden blade against his back.

"Oh yes, gangers. Not Imperial Guardsmen if I recall. And worse still, I almost died. Twice. We will not go through that again to fit your ego. Understood."

Roland smirked as he stepped forward away from Remoras sleeve knife.

"Fine, fine. I have to wonder sometimes, who's the captain on this ship."

Lady Mara sighed into her hand as she looked to the side and out at the Guardsmen lined up in formation. Her eyes catching a glimpse at one of them who seemed to stare at her, amongst all the others who looked blankly forward. She was a noble of course, of a… of an Imperial Knight House, House Valiant. Perhaps the only one left now. Since departing on her quest she had gotten used to living amongst those of the lower classes, circumstance aboard a rogue traders vessel all but assuring that. In her time aboard she had also come to speak with those of the Imperial Guard. Many of those in the past looked at her with lust, admiration or even jealousy, but by all accounts a figure to be upheld. This one guardsman however, looked at her with such a saddened and terrified expression on his face, as if she frightened him. She wasn't sure why she noticed his presence, or why he even caught her notice, but he did.

She almost lost track of where she even was for a moment, before she forced herself back into focus. To her surprise she watched as the Captain of the transport ship seemed to actually play along with Rolands foolish games as he walked up to the edge of the ramp. There he and his procession stopped and the Captain did a small wave of his hand. Roland chuckled as he nodded over his shoulder at his two subordinates.

"Hey, what did I tell you? It was fine. Seems the Captain at least knows how to play along."

The three of them began to walk down as they met the captain and his following officers at the bottom. There they stared at one another, waiting to see who would speak first. After a few intense moments, Captain Farlo broke the silence.

"Ah, so you are the Rogue Trader in command of this ship are you? Well, it is a pleasure to meet you. Though, I must say it is in bad taste to be wearing an icon of the Commissariat, and bold of you to ask me to walk up to you like this. After all, I was only the one who invited you on this ship."

Roland raised an eyebrow, interested in this peculiar Captain.

"In 'this' ship? Ah, odd way to talk about your own property, don't you think."

Farlo narrowed his eyes.

"'This' ship is not my property, as that vessel is not yours. They belong to the Imperium of Mankind, and we merely carry out their functions. Do not, even for a moment, believe that we are nothing more than servants of the Imperium, and more importantly, extensions of the Emperor himself."

Roland bit his tongue. So, he was dealing with a zealot was he? Ah… how he hated zealots.

"I will be sure to remember, Captain. So then, why did you ask me to meet you here?"

Captain Farlo took a deep breath as he motioned for Roland to follow him.

"Might we discuss some things in private? I am sure, after all, that there is an arrangement I believe you will like greatly."

Roland shook his head. If this captain wanted to be so demanding, perhaps another game was in order. He never liked these pompous arrogant types, especially those who thought they could simply strong-arm him to do what they wanted. He was a rogue trader by right of his heritage, and given credence by his beloved Emperor skeleton. He only grinned as he looked at the captain with a coy roll of the eyes.

"Tough chance. Afraid to speak to another captain in front of your own crew? Or perhaps, you are worried that I will not like your 'arrangement' and will try to seduce me in your quarters."

The officers beside Farlo began to grow fidgety, increasingly annoyed with the rogue traders attitude. Farlo however, maintained his calm as he held up a hand to warn them.

"Very well then, if you want to be an insolent child, I will tell you here. It is up to those with tact and an understanding of their purpose to educate those below them after all. This is what I ask of you, Rogue Trader. My services are needed elsewhere, and I cannot afford to coddle this station for the rest of my life, or the lives of the guardsman aboard my ship. You are more than capable of taking over command of the station while you wait for proper reinforcement to relieve you of this duty. That is what I expect you to do, in compliance with your responsibility to the Imperium. Understood?"

Roland couldn't believe what he was hearing. He was being ordered to babysit a station? By another captain of a troop transport ship no less! He was a rogue trader! Did he not understand this? Roland could not held but begin to chuckle as he looked at Captain Farlo. This was too damned funny. His attitude very much to his subordinate's disdain, as they merely watched him with a frustrated gaze, both knowing that he may have very well put them in a terrible circumstance. Roland didn't seem to mind it at all however, unwilling to let this other captain bully him around like he had any authority.

"Really? You expect me to just stop what I am doing to—"

Farlo smiled, without a care it seemed about Roland's rudeness, and interrupted him.

"That is exactly what I am asking you to do. I will even provide an additional hundred Guardsman to help you maintain the station. And, while we are at it, why don't you consider the prospects for this little venture. Consider the remote nature of this station. Far in the frontier. A place where someone like you could… conduct business."

Roland stopped laughing as he thought about the prospect.

"Wait, what? What exactly are you implying here?"

Captain Farlo rolled his eyes.

"Truly you don't see it? Imagine it. A place to stay put for a while, conduct some business, gain some fervor with local worlds that need this station, and all you have to do is 'babysit' an important vox station at the edge of the Imperium."

Roland suddenly recomposed himself as he cleared his throat and tidied his uniform. Perhaps he shot the boltgun too quickly…

"W-well, I suppose there could be some reason, that I might possibly, perhaps, just maybe, come to some… er… arrangement, as you called it."

Farlo closed his eyes in victory with a smile as he turned away.

"Good. Well, I will send a message to inform my superiors of this development. And while I await an official response, please, feel free to remain docked here. Mingle amongst the crew, and don't mind the guards. I am sure, that it will take several months for confirmation after all, and I can't afford to let you go off on your own. Thank you, for docking your entire ship in my docking bay. Made it easier to ensure you comply. Well, I must be off. I have a lot of other, more important, business to take care of."

Without another word Captain Farlo and his officers began to walk away as he pointed towards several of the Commanders as they dismissed their guardsman. Others moved quickly to set up a perimeter around the rogue trader's ship, and soon every corner was watched. The docking bay doors shut tightly behind them. Roland left standing in place as he realized what had just happened. Remora gripped his shoulder tightly as he tensed up. She really got angry at him at times.

"Well then, Captain. I hope you enjoyed playing your games."

Roland swallowed as he cleared his throat once more, brushing off his uniform.

"Right, yes… I surely showed him didn't I?"

Mara only sighed as she turned away and began to walk up the ramp of the ship.

"Seems we'll be stuck here for a while."

She looked back at the many guardsman as they began to move about. Among the group she saw him again, the man who had stared at her with that uncomfortable look. He interested her as she watched him carefully separate himself from the other Guardsman and sneak his way back into the bulk of the ship, avoiding the notice of his superiors. Such a strange guardsman. What was he doing?

Her attention was pulled away as she looked up the ramp to see Aloi, the Eldar corsair that Roland kept onboard as a mercenary. He was a proclaimed ranger, whatever that meant, but ultimately he always unnerved Mara. She saw him as simply a xeno to be purged, not a crewmate. Still, she maintained her obligation as a noble aboard the ship, and reigned in her discomfort. Regardless, he shouldn't be seen. Lest they are discovered to be harboring xenos and killed for treason. She walked up the ramp quickly and forcefully pushed him back into the ship.

"You, what are you doing? Do you want to get us all killed?"

The Eldar scoffed as he looked away from her.

"My name is Aloi, not that you are fit to use it. If we were to be discovered, I would be the one to survive at the very least. And regardless, it's not your business what I do."

Mara took a deep breath as she tried to calm every mental tick that insisted she challenge him to an immediate duel to the death.

"We are onboard an Imperium Transport ship, one carrying several thousands of Imperial guard. While I may tolerate your existence here, I do not believe they will."

Aloi looked out the open doorway.

"So what? Will you tell them about me? Reveal your collaboration in harboring a xenos aboard a rogue trader's vessel? Hmmm, you self-proclaimed noble without a title that means anything?"

Mara wasn't going to continue to humor him any further.

"You know that would mean death for all of us."

She turned away and began to walk towards her quarters. He hated her just as she hated him, and that was as it should be. Still his mere presence infuriated her. Yet, she stopped to listen as Aloi spoke up once more.

"You know, these men have killed Eldar already. I can feel it. And something else…"

Mara felt a small, tick of empathy. She stamped it out immediately as she shook her head, but didn't continue to walk. What was he getting at?

"So what?"

The Eldar took a deep breath.

"Nothing that concerns you. There is a Craft World that exists within this region of space, one I have a lot of unfinished business with. Let's say, very tenuous and bloody business. Unfortunately, revenge may not be allowed to me anymore, lest these humans already killed them all."

Without another word he began to walk past Mara, and towards his own room. The sick bastard. Mara slammed her fist against the wall beside her. Seemed even the Eldar hated themselves. She couldn't imagine why anyone would want to kill their own kind. Really, it only served to make her hate him more.

"Sick bastard of a xenos."

With nothing else to do, she stormed off to her room. The thought of the future heavy on her shoulders. Unfortunately, not everyone was able to think so freely on such things. As soon as the guardsmen were allowed to leave their place, Argus began his trek back to Laeria. It was easy enough to avoid the attention of his superiors through the crowd of other Guardsmen. However, he found his heart beat hard in his chest. While he was looking at that ship, when those three stepped out… he locked eyes with that woman. It was only a moment, but she saw him. For some reason he was terrified at it, as if she knew something was wrong with him. It was a completely unfounded thought, but the more he thought about it, the more paranoid he became as his mind seemed to go towards the idea that those people were here because of… damn the thought! Enough of this nonsense. That was enough. Argus snapped himself back to reality as he found himself in the dark hallways of the ship once more. He looked around and saw no one else around. He was thankfully almost back to sanctuary…

He froze in place as he heard someone call his name. He looked back to see another guardsman, someone he hadn't met before as they walked up to him.

"Hey, Argus right?"

Argus took a deep breath.

"Yeah. Now what do you want?"

The man rolled his eyes.

"Look, don't shoot the messenger pal. Been looking for your sorry ass since that event or whatever the hell it was ended. Just letting you know you're on shift for guard duty of the… what the hell was it called?"

He looked at a paper in his hands, crumpled from his grip as he struggled to carry both it and his lasgun at the same time.

"Ah right, the 'rogue traders' ship. Who knows what in Emperors name that is, but, gotta' be important if the Captain of our ship showed up himself right?"

Argus took an internal sigh of relief. So that's what this was.

"Of course. When do I have to report?"

The man scratched his head.

"Well I mean… the paper says uh…"

He stuffed the lasgun between his left armpit and held it in place as he got a better look at the paper.

"You got the shift for every first cycle. I think that means you report… er… shit. Look, whatever you do just get your ass over there eventually so that I don't end up on the shooting line alright?"

Argus nodded.

"Don't worry about it. I'll be there…"

The man only rolled his eyes as he started to walk away.

"Better, or I'll kick your ass."

Argus waited where he stood, careful not to let anyone follow him, until the man was completely out of sight. Then he waited a while longer, as he looked about for any other unexpected company. Today was just filled with surprises…

He shook his head as he began to move again. The slight paranoia that someone watched him ever over his shoulder as he moved further into the darkness of the ship. After a while the feeling faded away as he found himself back to the familiar hole in the wall. He climbed through, maneuvered through the pipes and found himself back in sanctuary where Laeria sat with her hands on her lap.

"So… what was the commotion about Argus?"

Argus glanced once back at the entrance before he laid down his things and sat down across from her.

"I'm… not entirely sure to be honest. But, I'll be gone on and off for a while. A 'Rogue Trader's ship docked today, not that I know what that is, or what it means. Either way, I have to be part of the guardsmen who, er, guard them."

Laeria smiled, though inside she held back the uncertain feeling that beat in her heart. She had felt something odd earlier, a small while after Argus had left. A presence. Something that felt like… like an Eldar. But, it wasn't a pleasant feeling. It was angry, and it scared her.

"Ah, that's something…"

She couldn't help but shift as her eyes drifted towards the entrance as well. Argus noticed her discomfort and was quick to ask what was wrong.

"Hey, you ok?"

Laaria shook her head.

"Truthfully… I don't know. I… felt something earlier."

Argus had come to learn that the Eldar were really sensitive. At least as Laeria explained it to him. The Eldar noticed a lot of things that others couldn't. Still… the way she looked now was frightened, something he hadn't seen her be for such a long while now.

"What do you mean?"

Laeria shook her head.

"No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be worrying you with this. It's likely nothing. Let's move on to other things."

Argus shook his head. That wasn't an answer really. More of a dodge.

"Laeria, I might not understand it but if somethings bothering you, I can at least listen."

Laeria sighed, as she held onto herself. Though she scooted slightly closer to Argus as she found herself stare at him. He really was the closest things she had ever had to a parent figure.

"If you insist. It was like there was another eldar somewhere. But… it wasn't a good feeling. It was like they were angry. Like they… would kill me if they ever got the chance. It was scary."

Argus was taken aback by what she said. Of all the things she could have said, that wasn't one he could have expected. Another Eldar? At first he assumed she meant someone coming for revenge… but for them to want to kill Laeria didn't make sense. Still, he saw how much it bothered her, and he wouldn't deny those feelings. He scooted closer to her as he put on the warmest smile he could.

"I wish I could better understand. But… I will do my best to protect you, Laeria. Even if it… I won't let harm come to you, ok?"

Laeria smiled just a little. She knew it was a bold claim at most, and there was no getting around the fact that keeping it would be much harder than he made it sound. She knew that Argus understood that too, but he said it to help her feel better… it showed he cared. That was enough for her.

"Thank you Argus."

She scooted against Argus as she leaned against his shoulder. Argus didn't move away from her, content where he was.

"I'll do my best Laeria. I'll take care of you."

They stayed there in silence for the rest of the time before they decided to get some rest. Argus was the first, as he always was to sleep, and Laeria found herself staring up at the metal ceiling. She had to suppress her powers more than she had before. Something was close by which could sense her, something that felt too much like an Eldar for her liking. An odd thought really, that she worried about the presence of another Eldar. Truthfully… it didn't really matter to her anymore if she ever saw another Eldar again. She would make her own decisions, without the likes of Farseers deciding her fate for her. She never really had a chance to interact with her own kind because of them. Then again, she was still so young. It really didn't matter anyway. She was oddly content where she was. It was no longer after she finished thinking, that she fell asleep as well.

* * *

Time passed and Argus started his routine as a guard for the rogue trader's ship. Every shift lasted for at least seven hours, as far as he could tell. Then he was released by the next Guardsman in line, a different one every time so far, and allowed to go about his business. From there, he took his rations for the day and would return to see Laeria. She would always wake after Argus had left and begin meditating to contain her powers while he was gone. When he returned they would resume their usual talking sessions and converse about things. Still, the more she tried to contain her powers, the more tired she found herself become. Argus was soon to notice as he began to question her about her health. She assured him that she was fine, though he decided to take it upon himself to have her exercise with him. The way he figured it, being stuck within a metal box without movement wasn't healthy, especially with the conditions aboard the ship as they were. It actually managed to help Laeria a little, as her body got a chance to exert energy and the strain on containing her powers became slightly easier. Still she would become tired beyond the point of reason at times, and if things kept up this way, she knew Argus would look for a Medicae, a human specialized in the medical field, to look over her. Something the both of them knew was a horrendously dangerous risk. Not only for the reason that she was Eldar, but that the quality of the Medicaes was likely… uncertain at best. Still she did her best not to worry him, though she felt that same presence grow stronger, the one that felt like an Eldar.

Unknown to either of them, there was another problem which slowly grew. Lady Mara, the freeblade aboard the rogue trader's ship, noticed the strange movements of a peculiar guardsman. It was the same man whom had stared at her so uncertain during their meeting with the captain. She saw him as one of the guardsmen assigned to babysit their ship, and after he was relieved of his shift, he did the same thing every day. He carefully avoided the sight of his commanding officers, and made his way towards the darkened hallways along the ship. She really had little desire to explore the ship, unlike Roland and Remora who was dragged along with him. The rest of the crew preferred to stay inside their own ship, and Aloi hadn't even left his quarters since the first day, not that it bothered her. Still, how he entertained himself all alone with nothing only frustrated her to think about. Not that her method of passing the time was much better… or admittedly even befitting of her noble status.

Ever since she learned that her home-world was destroyed, with no word that any of House Valiant survived… the need to act like a proper noble seemed to fade and wane. She did her best to uphold the name she carried, the reality that she could very well be the last of the knights from House Valor deep in her mind. It was a heavy burden to bear, but none among the crew of the Rogue trader's ship gave her sympathy. They had all had worlds destroyed, seen worlds destroyed, and Roland for all his eccentric nature hinted that he had a hand in one worlds demise. Her noble status hardly accounted for anything in their eyes, and though she could have easily stayed anywhere else, perhaps joined the crusade of one of the Inquisition, she did not. She stayed aboard the rogue trader's ship, and allowed herself to sulk. She had not even gotten within her Knight for so long, felt is mechanical embrace that she began to forget its feeling. Not that she stayed away by choice, her Knights armor and systems were simply broken beyond the crew's ability to repair, and its spirit was only alive enough to maintain its current state. It infuriated her, as well as deeply saddened her to see it, and so had it stored carefully in the ships docking bay in stasis. She had been a member of the rogue traders ship since the day she left her home world on her quest, and since learning of its destruction… had been nothing but a glorified passenger.

Every destination she had always found something to distract her from her minds turmoil. Here was no different. Since noticing the first few times that she saw that guardsman, she decided to make a small sport of it. She learned the guards shift simply by observing them, their consistency woefully crude. Different guardsmen appeared every single terran cycle. All except for that one peculiar guardsman who snuck away after his shift, whom appeared every time regularly. While she would have liked to believe that he was simply the most ambitious and dedicated, she knew that likely wasn't true. His behavior contrasted too much with his peers, and she began to formulate that he likely had a secret. So she watched him, every cycle, sat on a metal chair at the top of the ramp. So far, he hadn't noticed, and she was careful to not let him catch her gaze towards him. This particular guardsman intrigued her so much. At some point curiosity had to evolve into investigation.

She did the same on this cycle, as she watched him stand aside from the other guardsmen on watch duty. She was sat on her chair as she played with the end of her swords hilt, swinging it back and forth. This was the first time that she brought out her father's saber, though she wasn't sure why herself. It simply felt right. Her gaze was distracted as she noticed Roland walking back from one of the many hallways that led into the ship, surrounded by drunk Guardsman. They hung onto each other as they walked along, Remora held close to his side as she held onto his arm like a love struck damsel. On the outside she gave a stern and bored look, one could even say she looked agitated to be where she was. Mara had come to know her better than that however, and from the light blush on her cheeks she knew that Mara was just as tipsy as the rogue trader. The way that she held onto his arm and gave him side glances made it clear what they were going to do when they returned to the confines of the ship. The two of them always had sex after getting drunk, and even when they weren't, they could be found all over the ship together. It was a vulgar and excessive romance the two shared, one that rubbed against Maras own sensibilities greatly, but she didn't reprimand them. After all, in this case she wasn't the higher authority.

Roland and Remora said goodbye to the drunk guardsmen at the bottom of the ramp, as they were shooed away by those who guarded the ship. He and Remora walked haphazardly along the ramp as they stumbled their way up. As Roland saw Mara he only gave a drunken smile.

"H-Hello Mara… boy, do these guys have strong booze! Damn! M-Me and Remora are going inside to… to have a little talk."

Remora rolled her eyes as she pulled him close.

"Yes, a very loud and intimate talk. Now shut up unless you're going to invite her…"

Mara stood from her seat as it clattered to the ground. She wasn't even going to humor these two. At the edge of her attention she saw her peculiar guardsman begin his usual sneak away from the others. He was relieved from his shift just in time. And seeing as she didn't want to be badgered by some drunken company, she decided investigation might as well start today. Without looking back at the rogue trader or his far too eager company, she began to walk down the ramp. Remora only cooed after her.

"Come on, Mara, it was only a suggestion."

Mara shook her head, focused on her prey ahead of her.

"I'm going to explore for a while. I will be back later."

Remora answered back, expectant as usual.

"Well then, another time."

Mara continued onward. Remora was a completely different person when she was drunk, her usual refined self was traded for a more… loose and wild side. She wasn't royalty after all, and she was found amongst the lower classes of a hive world. Such things were likely only engraved into her personality, no matter how deeply she would bury it. Mara walked past the guardsmen at the end of the ramp who watched her as she went. Her hand ever on the hilt of her sword as she moved along. She was careful to stay at least fifteen paces behind the guardsman who snuck about. He looked about himself constantly, and every time he did she was quick to move out of his sight. So far, it seemed to work, and slowly she followed. Deeper, and deeper into the ship until the light began to darken and she found herself clenching the hilt of her blade tighter.

It wasn't uncommon for traps to be made for royalty. As she moved along, she began to wonder if this was a long ploy to trick her into coming here. Still, the way that the man acted as he moved about the darkened halls didn't seem to make that likely. He was too skittish, too worried about his surroundings to have set a trap. That the number of other guardsmen or crew she saw began to dwindle to nothing also piqued her interest. Finally the man came to a stop along the dark hallway and began to look about. Quickly she hid behind the nearest corner. She waited for several moments, and then looked back to see that he had disappeared.

Cautiously, she made her way down the hallway and let her eyes adjust to the darkness. Along the wall she noticed a carefully placed piece of metal covering a hole in the wall. What was this? She recalled the cults she had come across while adventuring with the rogue trader. Was that what she stumbled upon here? She halted as she reached out to pull the metal. Perhaps she should get reinforcement first…

Then again, maybe it would be better for her to settle this quietly. She moved aside the metal and stepped through into a darkened hallway, lined with piping and wires. She put the metal back into place behind her, to lower any suspicion lest others would come. Then she walked onward, as quietly as she could, one step at a time. The darkness gave way to light, and she found herself staring into a small room, a metal box hidden within the ships walls. There she saw the guardsman sitting across from a young girl. What was going on here? And what was he doing with this young girl

"What are you doing here?"

Argus and Laeria looked to see the mysterious woman who found them. It was a shock, straight through their hearts as they saw her. They had been discovered, and by whom they didn't know. Argus reached for his lasgun, but the woman reacted faster as she drew her sword and placed it between his hand and the rifle. Argus managed to look up at her as she kicked him in his stomach and picked him up by his collar. She lifted him up and rushed him against the wall.

"What are you doing with this girl?"

Laeria reacted without thinking. She stood up and ran over to the woman as she pulled on her clothes.

"Let him go!"

Argus thought a thousand thoughts, unsure what to do, until he spurted out his reply.

"She's my daughter!"

Mara was surprised by that answer as she let him go. He brushed her off as he quickly stood between her and the little girl. He had a bruised lip from his impact against the wall. He held up his hands as if to protect the little girl and pushed her back, his attention held on her the whole time. Mara could tell that he cared about the girl behind him. Perhaps she had assumed the worst too early. Still… this wasn't the scene she expected to find.

"Why is she here? Where's the mother?"

Argus struggled to find an answer. Laeria meanwhile began to feel the strain of the sudden stress that was put on her. Her emotions ran high as both fear and uncertainty gripped her chest and ripped at her soul. For just a moment she felt herself lose control of her powers with a scared yelp, only to quickly pull them back into control again. Argus looked back at her, his desire only for her to come out of this unscathed.

"Don't worry Laeria, we'll be ok. Just stay behind me."

Mara sheathed her sword, a sudden surge of empathy stretching to the two of them. It wasn't uncommon for Imperial Guardsmen to have children, though she could only imagine the difficulties it presented. Still, to be so secretive about this entire situation…

"I didn't hear an answer."

Argus took a deep breath.

"I don't know where her mother is. But, I'm taking care of her. This hellhole is no place to raise a child, but I don't have any other choice. I refuse to leave her to the mercy of those outside either."

Mara began to feel a deep sense of regret over this entire situation. That is, until she noticed a single, faint detail that almost escaped her grasp. Though the girl wore human clothing, she radiated a sense of beauty rarely found without surgical means, and most damning of all were those pointed ears, reminiscent of the Eldar aboard her ship, Aloi. Without hesitation, she drew her sword again and pressed its blade tightly against his neck.

"She's an Eldar."

Argus bit his lip tightly as he heard those words.

"She's a child!"

Mara looked over the girl again. By all accounts she looked very close to a human child. But she was not. She was a xeno. An enemy of the Imperium, and as a noble of house Valiant, it was her duty to uphold those principles.

"She is a xeno. And you, are a traitor."

Argus's hands trembled, his entire body did. He was scared, but how could he not be? He was discovered. But he didn't budge, he didn't move away and he didn't fall to his knees. He stood between her and Laeria, ready to do whatever he had to. Really, it didn't matter anymore what happened to him. He made his choice the minute he saved Laeria.

"Yes. I am."

Mara didn't move, uncertain why she continued to let either of them live. She found herself stare into the man's eyes, at his determination to protect this xeno girl behind him. Why was he so adamant about this? Was he not of the Imperial Guard? The Emperors will? She needed answers.

"Are you not a guardsman? Did you not swear an oath to the Emperor of mankind?"

Argus swallowed, the beating in his heart so bad it rung in his ears. Sweat began to form at the tip of his brow, the cold edge of the blade at his throat barely cutting the edge of his skin.

"I was taken from my home and told to be a soldier. I am no less than a slave in the eyes of the Imperium. My life means nothing in the face of humanity. I was told to lose everything about myself and be a puppet willing to die at a moment's notice. I didn't belong to myself anymore. I was a Guardsman! But tell me, what is worth protecting anymore? We live only to accept death, so we can fuel the cycle of violence that engulfs our existence. I don't know much truthfully… but if there is so much misery and despair that simply necessary for humanity to continue living, what's the damn point? I want to believe there is more than this endless cycle. I want… I made my own choice, as an individual. Right or wrong be damned, I am a human being of my own accord. I decided to make my own decisions, and if that is wrong, then so be it."

To make one's own decisions in this universe was such a bold prospect in Mara's eyes. This man definitely had the grit and will of a guardsman. Yet he decided to place it within his own naive prospects. She was a noble of a Knightly House, and he was… truly at this point there was little difference between him and her. She had no title that meant anything anymore, and she found herself dragged through the Imperium without purpose by a rogue trader. What purpose had she that was any less meaningful than this mans? She had to converse with an Eldar, tolerate his mere existence as a 'crewmate', despite her own disdain, but her interaction with xenos was no less secretive than this mans. In a lot of ways what this man just told her frustrated her to no end. She raised her sword beside his throat, hesitant whether she was to finish it or not.

"And you will stand to these convictions with your life?"

Argus waved a hand behind him, to feel Laerias. In a lot of ways, he should have expected that something like this should have been inevitable. Well, not like he didn't know. The more time he spent with Laeria, the more he told himself that it wouldn't end. A lie, through and through. But regret was nowhere near how he felt.

"Yes."

Laeria could not stand it any longer. If this was to be it, she… she couldn't accept this!

"No! I won't let you die!"

Her emotions ran too highly, and in a moment of peak stress she let her guard down. Yet she only managed to shove the woman to the side with her unleashed powers, sending out a small psychic beacon that lasted but a single moment, before she found herself fall unconscious. She hadn't used her abilities in such a long time that she was out of practice, and all the time she spent suppressing them, proved too much for her young body. She fell to the floor with a loud thud.

Argus quickly knelt beside her as she picked up her unconscious body.

"Laeria? Laeria! Wake up…"

His heart sank as she didn't respond, though as he felt for a pulse he was relieved to find one. He pulled her to the other side of the room where he grabbed his lasgun and pointed at the barely recovered woman who attempted to stand up from being shoved against the wall.

"Stay where you are."

Mara held onto her head, still spinning from the sudden jolt being thrown against the wall. That Eldar girl cared enough to try and save that man? Why did she care so much? Why did he?

"What makes you go to such lengths for a xeno?"

Argus stayed silent for a few moments as he rested Laeria on his lap. He didn't know what was going to happen, but… he shook his head. There was no use in thinking about it now. All he could do was be here. He thought for a moment about shooting the woman, here and now, but that same hesitation that prevented him from killing Laeria creeped up again. He wasn't fit to be a soldier, a guardsman, his heart simply wasn't hard enough. Even now, when it was…

"I… I helped kill everyone she knew. She and other Elder were aboard the station when we arrived. We were simply told to purge the entire place, and so we did. So I did. I had nothing but the promise of death back then. We fought, killing one Eldar after another. Not that we didn't lose more guardsmen than we killed them. Given the chance, I'm sure they would have killed every last one of us. It was horrific really, but it was reality. They simply tried to survive, and we simply had orders… but when I saw her, a defenseless little girl, Eldar or not… I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't contribute to this hell. So I took her in, and I've cared for her ever since."

Mara wiped away the blood from her busted lip as she stared at the man. He was more willful than she had seen any guardsman ever be. That was hardly a bad trait. Honestly, it was admirable in some sense, and reminded her of virtues held highly in House Valiant. Someone that cared so deeply about protecting others they would go to the extent of treason. Still, the hatred for xenos, ingrained from her upbringing, irked her as she looked at the Eldar girl. She was a xenos, an enemy of humankind… yet even she could understand what the man said. She was still just a little girl, a child. Her body small and frail. Still, violence as he described was necessary in the reality they found themselves within. It was the only way humanity could persist. Regardless, she was fully aware that much of it was cyclical. How could she find herself having doubts now? Truly she… she had been away from home for too long. Still, as she thought of it, what had Eldar to gain from such a remote Vox Station? Why would there be a child among them, such a rare occurrence for an Eldar child to be outside their craftworld.

"Why were the Eldar even within the station?"

Argus found his arm tire as he held the lasgun up. Still he held it firm as he watched the woman, while he cradled Laerias head with his other. She began to have difficulties breathing as she laid on him, and he didn't know what to do anymore. Nothing left but to continue this discussion or end it with a pull of the trigger. Something his wavering heart could not do.

"They… their craftworld was destroyed. Laeria and the others were all that remained from those that managed to escape. They didn't have anywhere left to go, and eventually found themselves trapped on the station after raiding it for resources. And yes… they killed the crew. Like I said, they weren't innocent in this. At least, except Laeria. She had nothing to do with it. They just wanted to protect her."

Mara found herself in a deep pause. That Eldar girl was in the same place she was in. Her home world was destroyed, and they were now adrift without anywhere to go. The last of any legacy they could hope to sustain. She… empathized with that xeno girl. She… how could she? She was a…

As she watched the girl in the man's lap as she breathed heavier and heavier, her heart warmed. How could it betray the need to purge the xenos? How could she feel anything! How… how indeed. She was no longer a noble of a knightly house, no matter how much she tried to convince herself. Her sacred armor was barely alive, kept within stasis aboard a rogue trader's ship. She had no family left, and her home world was gone. Her title held no meaning, and she struggled to continue justifying purpose. She didn't know much anymore who she was, and why she continued to go with a rogue trader of all people. Yet here she found two souls, a guardsman and an Eldar girl, who despite losing everything and being taken away from all they knew, still rebelled against the uncaring universe. They did as they chose to. They were stronger than she was, a knight of House Valiant. How miserable… but how so humbling. It had to be. So the question was then, what would she do now? The Eldar girl seemed… sick. She clearly used some sort of psyker power to shove her into the wall. But, she didn't know enough about Eldar that would help. So, she intended to help now?

She looked at the sword in her hand. It was a gift from her late father. He told her to use it to carve her own path in the universe, to make her own story and discover for herself what valiance was. Had she lost her way? Or would he have told her to stop waiting for the universe to give her back purpose and make her own damned path. She made up her mind. If this was to be reality, she would make it her own.

"I… I can help you."

Argus couldn't believe what he heard. No. That had to be a lie.

"You are lying."

Mara shook her head as she pushed herself up from the ground. Surprised herself at what she was saying.

"No. I am not. I… I am truly sincere. And by the look of that girl, she isn't faring well. I can find a way to help her."

Argus found himself tense up at the prospect. He didn't know who she was. How could he just… Laeria began to fidget as she continued to burn up. Her forehead was hot, and she winced in pain. Argus couldn't leave her like this. He…

"How can I trust you?"

Mara began to walk away, a slight limp in her step as she sprained her leg. She got to the hole in the wall and looked back at him.

"Then shoot me if you can't."

The lasgun shook in Argus hands. This wasn't fair. But then again, that was the way of things wasn't it? He had to make a choice, and he didn't know which was right. To let her go… it was merely inviting death to end it all. On the other hand, it was his only chance. He didn't know how to help Laeria, and he had nobody else to trust. If there was but a chance, all he could do was take it. Without a word he lowered the lasgun and dropped it onto the ground.

Mara let out a sigh of relief. He had no reason to trust her, but he did. He really wasn't fit to be a guardsman. But… he wasn't someone very common in her experience. Someone so determined to follow their self that they would risk losing it all. Her father would have been proud. This strange little pair gave her an odd sense of purpose, some sense of hope again. Perhaps she was always destined to be a traitor as well.

"My name is Mara. I will come back during the next cycle. Take care of her till then, and do not skimp on your duties as a Guardsman. It would only create suspicion."

Argus nodded.

"My name is Argus. And I will hold you to your word."

Argus was it? So that was the name of this peculiar man she met. With nothing else to say, Mara walked out and away from the little room. A newfound purpose in her step as she walked along the hallways of the ship. After a brief amount of time she found herself back into the docking bay where the rogue trader's ship was. Roland sat at the top of the ramp as he looked down at the guardsmen who guarded it. Mara simply walked past them as she made her way up. As she saw Roland, likely barely having escaped Remoras lustful reach, he was asleep, and his 'borrowed' Commissariat hat pulled over his eyes as he slumped in his chair. How he became a captain always eluded her, the idea that his family would put him in such a position merely for the sake of family ties not comforting. Either way, it didn't really matter at present moment.

She walked into the ship where she was surprised by Aloi who stood beside the doorway.

"Rare for you to leave the ship."

Mara calmed her minds agitated reflex at the presence of him as she turned to face him. He was her best bet at finding the Eldar girl assistance. Still… she couldn't trust him. Remembering what he had said before. Lest the humans already killed them all.

"It doesn't concern you."

Aloi rolled his eyes.

"Certainly had to be interesting enough for you to leave your routine. Every one of your terran cycles, you would sit outside this door and observe something. Something had to convince you to leave. And..."

He looked at the bruise she had on her cheek and the limp she walked with.

"Clearly you found something."

Mara turned to the side.

"Doesn't concern you. I merely had a small… scuffle."

Aloi frowned as he closed his eyes, looking at something in his mind.

"Well, I felt something today. An odd feeling. Like there was another Eldar around. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Mara held the hilt of her sword.

"No. But, now that you mention it, how do you suppress your latent psyker witchery? Surely, you would be noticed by any Psyker in range."

Aloi smirked, though he didn't open his eyes or even turn to acknowledge her.

"Such a… peculiar question. I must say, you aren't acting like yourself, being of the proud and arrogant sort. I expected that you would just ignore me, act like I am somehow beneath you. You've yet to even insult me. How odd."

Mara wasn't going to play his games.

"Enough. I simply don't want to be branded a traitor and killed because you are found aboard our ship."

Aloi rubbed the palms of his hands as he reached into his pocket.

"Well, I have trained myself to contain my presence quite well. I don't even need to think about it much anymore, most human Psykers hardly strong enough to find me and keep themselves in one piece. Of course… if there were someone who wasn't fully trained, they would struggle greatly. One might even say, they could get themselves sick trying. For such an individual, particular suppressants would likely work to remove the strain."

Mara stared at Aloi carefully. Such specific information to give so willingly.

"Oh? And you wouldn't happen to have such things would you?"

Aloi pulled out several small orbs from a pack at his side. The orbs completely black and perfectly rounded.

"Always keep some with me, in case more… impressive psykers happen to be about. Not that they would be of any use to you. In humans, these would likely cause severe hallucinations and head trauma. Then again… would they?"

Mara reached out to grab them.

"No, but I would imagine they could prove useful for barter."

Aloi gave a small chuckle, as he pulled back his hand before Mara could grab them.

"I didn't take you for an addict, 'Lady' Mara. How pitiful humans can be sometimes. I suppose it was only a matter of time before that prideful spirit of yours broke away, and you became the monkeigh you were meant to be. Fine. If you want them, take them."

He dropped them onto the floor as he walked away, off towards his room. Mara was furious, barely able to contain herself as her limbs shook and she so desperately wanted to draw her sword. To chase him down and remove his head for such a slight. But she did not, she knelt down and grabbed the small orbs into her hands. Clearly, Aloi knew something more than he let on. What, she did not know. Still, this was her only option, if she didn't wish to be caught herself. She only hoped that these… suppressants weren't a foolish ruse on Aloi's part. If they were, she would be sure to kill him afterwards.

She stood up with the suppressants in her hand. She looked out the door and down the ramp, toward the darkened hallways that exited the docking bay. She truly felt a sense of purpose in what she was doing. Something she hadn't felt in such a long time.

* * *

**_Hello all, hope everyone's doing well. This fic became a bit larger than I originally intended it to be. Mostly because of my decision to expand on some characters and events a lot more than I first thought I would. Either way part 3 started to become really long, so I decided to just split it into two, so a part 4 will be coming out some time in the future. When it does I'll give my feelings on the entirety of this little side fic, though truthfully 'little' probably isn't the right word to describe it anymore. Either way, the next part will be the conclusion of this story, and then I will go onto other things, including working more on the sequel story of my first fic. Of course, I write these fics more for writing/story practice, for my personal enjoyment and for my love of 40k than anything else. I still have a lot of other works of my own (which I also very much enjoy writing) that I intend to publish sometime in the near future that I am also currently working on as well, so those have always had higher priority (well, that and the obligations brought by college, but now its summer!). Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this part, and I wish you well. As always, feel free to comment or not. If you notice any errors or things wrong with the writing, feel free to tell me. And most of all, thanks for reading!_**


	26. A Guardsman's Purpose (Side Story Pt4)

A Guardsman's Purpose: Part 4

Mara could not understand it. How had she become so connected to that xenos girl and that traitor? By all means, she should have hated them, despised them, she should have killed them. But she did not. No, she found herself… she found herself enjoying her time with them. How had she become a traitor herself?

It fascinated her how quickly, and how much things had changed. How a single decision altered her path so drastically. When she had first acquired the drug used to satiate Laeria's psychic abilities, she found herself worried at the prospect of meeting the two again. Uncertain as to what she was even doing. Her worry only worse when Argus, the guardsman, against her suggestion didn't report for his guard shift. She had barely even known him then, but she already had a good idea of who he was. Really, he cared too much, but in a way it… it was endearing to her. For some reason, she felt urgency for them. It didn't take long for her to return to the both of them as soon she could. She went to find them exactly where she left them. Despite their clear apprehension of her, she genuinely and simply wanted to help.

Though, apprehensive was not quite the word to describe how they felt about her, even if they were both afraid and cautious around her. There was something else, though she still couldn't describe it. Perhaps they thought it would have been only but a single, onetime event. Mara, at the time, had believed it would be. However, when the next day came, she managed to gather more of the suppressants from Aloi, and then made her way to see them again. An excuse in her mind that she had to provide them with more. She didn't even think about reporting them, nor did she have any desire to. She didn't know why, but there was a small joy in it. In helping them. When they had first seen her with such shocked faces, she couldn't help but let out a laugh. Something she hadn't done in such a long time. From there, she sat down across the two of them, and together they talked. It was a simple affair, and due to their apprehension of her, the conversation was very… simple and dull. Yet, it still surprised her, how she had felt when she took her leave. She had enjoyed it more than she believed she should have. She could have made many excuses for it, but she didn't. Truth was, she found something that brought her a glimmer of happiness. They fascinated her for some reason, having the will to do what she did not.

This repeated daily, as she found herself leave after Argus guard shift to go talk with them. Days turned into weeks, and weeks into nearly eight months. All the while, the more she went, the more she felt that life had returned to her. The more that spark of joy became something she looked forward too and expected. When she reflected on herself before she met them, she did not have anything to look forwards for. Nothing other than her duty and desire to uphold her title, gave her the will to go on. Otherwise, it was empty, filled with self-pity and excuses. She recalled the many long and lonely terran days, spent alone aboard the Rogue Traders ship, having no real connections to turn to and no purpose other than to persist. Before she was content simply being indifferent to others and clinging to her nobility. So how? How did she find such welcome companionship in these two? She did not know, but really, she wondered if it mattered at all.

She found something that ignited the fire of valor, once frozen over by her sorrow and lack of direction. A reason to continue forging herself a path, as her father had desired for her. She did not know about the future, or what it held, but now it felt so much more important to her than it had before. She dared not think about no longer having the two of them around, as she formulated plans to keep them around. Still, this made her a traitor, and she knew it well. It was a truth that often rattled in her mind as she slept, but she found she did not care. Harboring a xenos, and assisting a traitor guardsman. She had become a traitor fully of her own will. Yet, she did not do so out of malice, nor did she do it to spite the Holy Emperor. Such she would never do. No, she did it because it was her choice to do so. It was defiance, perhaps, of the universe which would prefer she waste away in silence and in misery.

Of her two companions, Argus was at first the most suspicious of her. Something that surprised her. She had thought that Laeria would have been more so, given she was a xenos. Yet, Argus was as fierce as her own father in his protection of Laeria. As Mara watched him, how he acted around Laeria, Mara found it warm her heart. Xenos or not, Laeria was a child and Argus treated her as if she was his own. Truthfully, he was not fit to be a guardsman. Once she would have had him turned away or punished for it. Now, however, she found she respected him for the traits that made him unworthy of his title as guardsman. A man who fought the universe about him, and boldly decided to carve his own destiny despite its demands otherwise. In such circumstances as those of the Imperium of Man, it was a foolish notion, yet he wasn't delusional. He very clearly knew the reality of his choices, but he made them regardless. She knew other nobles who didn't have half the resolve or valor as this outrider of a guardsman did. That he held onto that kind and caring heart of his was also a detriment, fatal in the field of war. Yet, she… found it oddly refreshing. Endearing even, to see such a willfully naïve attitude, despite even him recognizing the harsh truth of it all. Not that it deterred his caution around her. Yet, given how she appeared every day without malice, it was only natural he eventually see her different. After a time, he started to warm to her, and soon even talked openly with her. While in that little sanctuary of his own making, he was so much different than the timid, cold person she saw on duty.

As for her other, companion, Laeria… the girl brought out a lot of confusion for her. She knew she was an Eldar. She knew she was supposed to be the enemy. But, the more time that she had spent with her, she found herself thinking of her like a human child. How naïve and childlike she was, even despite her age. Certainly she spoke well, she was behaved and acted much like the noble children of House Valor would. However, she could see the scared, and vulnerable girl beneath her act of stability. The girl even did her best to talk openly and honestly as possible despite her fear of her at first. Eventually she began to lose that fear and a wonder, or perhaps a naïve respect was held for her by the girl. Laeria was just a child, and Mara found herself become attached to her, even enough to sit beside the girl. She didn't know what her father…no, what anyone of her family would think of this, but she… she still found it hard to recognize how it became like this. How she started to care for this Eldar girl. Maternal feelings were only natural she supposed, but… Laeria gave her someone to focus on. To worry over and even wonder for the future for. An Eldar Girl! Yet she had started to call her by her native name, Laeria, rather than xenos a long time ago. She looked forward to seeing her every day now. While it started with the excuse of providing the girl with suppressants she took from Aloi, it became more than that. Not that it wasn't an important task for her to do, as Laeria needed them if she was to remain in control. Aloi did not have an infinite supply however, and Mara recognized that eventually… she would just have to find another source. These two were important to her now, for better or worse, whether they knew it or not. She made up her mind, to help them, even if it would eventually lead her to death. This was the choice she had made, and it was good to make one for herself again.

She woke up on this day, expecting much the same as usual. She dressed as she always did, grabbed her father's sword and latched it at her side, and before she left the door, took another suppressant for Laeria from her dresser. The Rogue Traders crew rarely had any interest in what she did, and she didn't want to give any reason for suspicion. She was a noble after all, and if she wanted to go somewhere, it was her business. That was how it had always been. Today however, outside her doorway stood Remora as she leaned against the wall.

"Ah, Mara. Awake early I see."

Mara simply tried to walk past her, however Remora gave a coy smile and moved to stand in front of her.

"Well, in a hurry are we?"

Mara kept her cool, though she couldn't resist grabbing the hilt of her sword. She shouldn't act so paranoid. She simply had to act as she always had.

"It's no bother to you."

Remora rolled her eyes.

"Oh? Is that so? It's just, I can't help but notice that you have left the ship quite a lot lately. That's not very usual for you."

Mara took a deep breath as she lessened the grip on her swords hilt. There was no need for suspicion. She simply had to play this off.

"Then why didn't you bring this up to me sooner? Am I not allowed my privacy?"

Remora stepped back, clearly unenthused.

"How crude. You and I know that something is going on with you. We've been to many worlds and stations before, and you've always preferred to stay in the confines of the ship unless you had to leave. Here however, you spend more time somewhere on this transport vessel only to return hours and hours later. It's simply… curious, is all."

Mara attempted to walk around her again however she was blocked with an arm pushed out in front of her. Mara grew frustrated as she gritted her teeth, though she still kept her calm demeanor.

"What do you want, Remora? My business is my own."

Remora sighed in frustration.

"You have always been a pain in the ass to talk with. Listen, I was simply curious if…"

Remora looked over Maras shoulder and then behind herself. What she wanted to ask burgeoned worry inside Mara's chest, as she held tighter onto her swords hilt.

"If what, Remora?"

Remora smiled for a second before she collected herself and cleared her throat. She leaned uncomfortably close to Mara's face and whispered.

"Well, you haven't found someone have you? Someone to enjoy time with? Or someone to… play with perhaps? I'm sure someone like you was bound to become frustrated after all this time aboard this rogue traders ship."

Mara was completely unprepared for such a question, her mind expecting something even halfway serious. She was a noble, not some lower class… she was not frustrated! Still, Mara couldn't help but blush as she found herself awkwardly embarrassed. She had no cause to worry at all it seemed. She only blankly stared into the excited eyes of Remora.

"S-Such a vulgar question, don't you think Remora? This isn't worth my time. I am perfectly content at the moment. Now excuse me but I…"

Remora tapped Mara's lips with a finger as she pushed herself back.

"Woah there, no need to get your undies in a twist. Now, if I may give some advice there is a reason I asked you this."

Mara couldn't believe that she just shushed her. It was just undignified… she couldn't let her teasing get to her. Remora had always been this way with her in private. That, and she could smell the alcohol on her breath. Mara shook her head as she crossed her arms, but still stood there to listen. She really wanted to leave, but she knew better than to try and ignore her. Remora would only become more persistent and if Mara continued to want to leave, she ran the risk of making her either more suspicious, overly curious, or both. Knowing her, she would be followed back to Argus and Laeria is she wasn't careful.

"Fine. Then please, explain so I may be on my way."

Remora smirked.

"Of course. Well you see…"

She brushed off her shoulder and stood straight as they heard footsteps from down the hallway. One of the crewman walked by, and as he did, Remora presented herself as she usually did in-front of the crew; cold, stern and above them. She was Roland's right hand after all, and she respected that title enough to present herself accordingly to the crew. Even if most of them knew how she normally was. Mara at least respected her for that.

As soon as the crewman was out of view, Remora let out a breath of air and turned back to Mara.

"Ok. Well, if you do happen to have somebody that you care enough about to go visit every day, you might want to consider that Roland and the Captain have finally contacted some reinforcements. That means that we are going to be left here at this station, while the transport ship will continue on its own mission to supply the frontier with troops."

Mara froze in place. So, it had finally gone through. Communications between voidships always took a long time, and was always unreliable. She had assumed it would be a while still… but those were likely just wishful thoughts. She had to get to Argus and Laeria. They had to figure something out…

Mara noticed the worry that crept over Maras face. It was priceless. One of her favorite pastimes was teasing her, as one of the noble type she always had the best reactions. She was honestly, too easy to read at times.

"So there _is _someone. Well, well, who would have guessed a noble would have such a side to them. I hope you've been using contraceptives. If you need, I don't have need for mine anymore, not if everything works out as Roland hopes."

Mara shook her head as she focused purely on her new task. She refused to simply leave Argus and Laeria aboard the transport ship.

"Enough Remora. When is the transport ship scheduled to leave?"

Remora was slightly taken back by how serious Mara seemed to take this. Did she really have someone she cared that much for?

"Well, er, likely by the end of this cycle. Though we are supposed to be left with a few hundred guardsmen aboard the station. So, if you want someone to come along, I would suggest bringing them yourself."

Mara gave Remora a nod as she walked away.

"Thank you for telling me. I'll be back a little later."

As she walked off Remora watched her, curious as to what drove her so fiercely. Mara had seemed to act with more life in her step recently. She had hoped to simply play around with her for a while, teasing her as she normally did. She imagined that Mara's adventures off ship to be a fling, perhaps among multiple different men. Though she should have guessed Mara wouldn't be the kind to have such relations. She saw it in Mara's eyes. They were the fiercest she had seen them in a long time, determined. Whoever she worried about, she really worried about them. Remora leaned back against the wall. Well, perhaps she really had fallen in love.

Mara was nearly out the ships entrance when Aloi put a foot out to block her. She stopped in time to avoid falling and drew her sword. There was no time for this! She swung it beside his neck and held it there as he looked at her. Aloi hardly even gave it a glance.

"Quick as ever. I would have expected those suppressants to affect you more, severely, than they have. By now, you should be a groveling mess."

Mara wouldn't even humor him. She pulled back her sword and sheathed it as she continued on her path.

"Leave me alone, xenos cur. I have more immediate things to worry about."

Aloi frowned.

"Tell me, 'Lady' Mara, if you aren't taking them yourself, who is? Certainly, you wouldn't be doing anything that would be against your beloved Emperor now, would you?"

Mara clasped her hands tightly into fists as she looked out the door, down the ramp.

"Do not test me xenos. I would never do something of the sort."

Aloi closed his eyes as he pushed himself back into the shadows.

"Then why did you have to tell me that? Simply, not leave as you always do? Humans are truly such easily read creatures. There is always a reason behind any change of behavior, and I must say, you have been acting very differently. You have never felt the need to justify your stance or position to me, so why now? Is it that, perhaps, you have something to hide, 'lady' Mara?"

Mara swung around and threw a punch that was quickly caught in Alois hand. She gritted her teeth as she pulled away and walked off, down the ramp. Aloi watched her as she went. He had observed her since she first took those suppressants from him. At first he assumed she was on the path to self-deprivation, but it quickly became apparent that she didn't show any signs of addiction or the negative effects. It was curious. She clearly had a purpose in them, and he doubted it was one as mundane as selling them among the crew. Regardless, he would wait and see. He had a hunch, a very faint one, but one that he felt none the less. There was another Eldar here, aboard this ship. One he had to ensure died.

Ah. How it came to this. How he had come to be here. An outcast both from his own species and the monkeigh he found himself surrounded by. A truly forsaken soul, only alive because of his own wits and strength. Unlike many of his brethren he felt no shame in his cooperation with the humans. He was valued more among the crew of this Rogue Trader than he ever was before. It had been a very long time since he had given up on his own kind. He saw more of the universe than most of them ever would, always content to remain in their false reality, and he realized just how much they were like everything else in this forsaken universe. The bastard hypocrites! He had decided that if he was to be part of this universe, there was no use blinding himself with ignorance. His own people showed him that a long time ago. When he was banished.

As a young Eldar, he grew up happily and content in his Craftworld. He had hoped to follow in the footsteps of his onetime heroes, the Farseer council. He dedicated himself to following the path, and he had made it very far indeed. Praised and encouraged at every step, he was heralded as a powerful warrior who would do great things for the Eldar. At the time, he was blinded by their descriptions of superiority, their once 'glorious' history of total domination. He desperately wanted to bring the Eldar to greatness once more. He gave himself fully onto that task, and worked himself to exhaustion. All for the sake of his people, for the Eldar. He learned about all he could, studied on the enemies of the Eldar, the monkeigh, the Orks, the dreaded Necrons, all of them. He grew to hate and despise them all as he was told. He was fooled by those who constantly told him that the Eldar were meant to be on top, that the Eldar were perfection, that the Eldar were the good in this dreaded universe. He believed it all!

Aloi slammed his hand against the side of the wall, leaving a small dent in the thick metal. His hand trembled as he thought about his past, and he knew his emotions began to run amok again. The all-consuming anger he felt burned and boiled his organs as he made his way back to his quarters. It had been such a time since he had stopped meditating, resorting to the usage of suppressants to keep his psychic presence in check. To the point that his once solid attachment to the warp was now strained and unrefined. As he opened his quarter's door, he walked inside the darkened room and shut the door behind himself. He locked it as he always did and then made sure to trick the cameras that constantly observed him with false images of himself meditating. Then he walked over to the small metal drawers that rested beside his bed. He pulled the top drawer open fiercely as its stopper slammed against the front. The hundreds of suppressant pills inside shifted with the force as several of them fell out. He grabbed a handful of them and in quick succession swallowed each whole. After a few moments his emotions subsided and he found himself in complete control of himself again, his emotions no longer able to overpower his brains input. He pulled a large piece of paper from underneath his bed and stabbed it onto the wall with his knife. It was a star chart of what the humans called the Frontier, and marked along it was the path of his home Craftworld. He had taken the position as a mercenary among Rogue traders and unscrupulous humans in order to track it down. He found the most luck with this particular rogue trader's ship, whose captain only cared he kill when asked and was otherwise left to his own devices. He was so close to finally finding his Craftworld again, and he fully intended upon exacting his revenge himself. However, when he had heard that it had been destroyed… he was both overjoyed and overwhelmed by anger. So, what use was there for this map?

He dragged the knife down through the map and then ripped it off. He crumbled it and continued to separate it into pieces with his hands. When it was thoroughly destroyed he let the pieces fall to the ground like feathers.

He never could have predicted that this was what he would become. There was a time that his former self would likely have killed himself had he known this was what would come. All for the sake of the Eldar. He still remembered the day he learned the cruel truth of his own kind, and the reality of this mad universe. He was nearly prepared, trained to become a full Farseer. To enter the council. He had long since lost himself to the path and was ready to dedicate himself entirely to it. Then, unknown to him, one of the council had a vision, and a small Eldar girl was brought before them. She was to be the one who would lead their craftworld to greatness. She would be the one who was destined to alter the course for their craftworld entirely and lead the Eldar to a new future. Such, Aloi would have completely accepted. He did not seek power, he did not seek respect, he merely wanted to do his part for the Eldar. But, as he would learn, it was not to be.

On the eve of his admission into the Farseers council, one of the Council Elders had a vision. A vision he and the others discussed and ruminated over, as they came to a decision well before Aloi ever entered the chambers. They welcomed him into the hall, and there, at that moment he was at his happiest. Full of hope and expectation for the future. However, they did not speak of his tireless dedication, they spoke not of his faithful adherence to their doctrines and laws, they spoke of all he did for them. They spoke not of his devotion and loyalty to the Eldar race. Rather, they told him that they had seen a vision. One in which they had much trouble and conflict in discussing. And so they asked him a question. What would he do, if he knew of someone who would inevitably hinder or harm the Craftworld? Of course he gave them the expected answer. 'I would ensure that they could not.' That is what he told them. And then, they asked their second question.

'Would you do so even if they were another Eldar?'

How naïve he was back then. Of course, he answered without hesitation and without thought. Of course he would. Of course he would, for the sake of the Eldar! That was all that they had needed to know. The leader of the council stood and told him that she was sorry, but that she knew what had to be done. And it was only then, that he realized what was occurring. He asked them what he had done wrong, he asked them why they suspected him. They only told him that they had a vision that he would one day attempt to kill the Eldar girl destined to change their craftworld. The chosen. He pleaded that he would never dare, that he had no such feelings. They had the boldness to tell him that he could not determine the future, for they had already seen it. He was overshadowed by the girl, and they claimed that such could easily lead him to such an outcome. He denied it over and over again as his world collapsed about him. His happiest moment leading him to weeping as he knelt on the floor.

It was only then that one of the members, Denvae, decided to have mercy upon him. Rather than let him die, for all his time of faithful service, he would instead be banished from the craftworld and sent far away, so that he would never have the chance to hurt the girl. This was acceptable by the council, and without so much as listening to his pleas, he was dragged away. Sent away with corsairs who were stopped at the craftworld. He was broken, lost and had no will left to do anything, and hoped for death. Yet, it would not come. Given their first chance, he was instead sold off, a bargaining chip between the Corsairs and what he learned were the Dark Eldar. He was taken away to that hell, where he learned the true nature of the Eldar. What he once thought was perfect he saw to be a delicate lie, and as he was tortured for pleasure and for sport by fellow, twisted and sickened Eldar, he broke. This was how they sustained themselves, and it tormented him. He remembered as he pleaded with them as fellow Eldar for the pain to end, for death, but they refused. It only made them enjoy it further. They chastised him, and goaded him for believing that the Eldar were so great. The Dark Eldar were the true face of his race. They caused their own downfall a long time ago, and those Eldar of Craftworlds held onto the foolish dream to reclaim what was lost.

He could not believe it at first. He would not believe that the Eldar willfully ignored the existence of the Dark Eldar, who committed such atrocious and heinous acts that they destroyed his perception of the Eldar race being superior. They were no different than any of the supposed lesser races. They allowed such a horrific part of themselves to exist purely because they were Eldar. That was the only reason he could justify. He was never told of the Dark Eldar, he was not told of the truth behind the Eldars past, he was simply pushed into compliance with lies.

It took many years before he had the chance to escape that hell, as he managed to sneak aboard one of the raiding ships. Starved and beaten, covered in lacerations and hooked jewelry. He only barely managed to trick the wytch he was dead, and was lucky she found it funny to throw him on one of the raiding ships. When they left, he found himself on a human world and escaped as the Dark Eldar began to pillage a local settlement. Luckily, not a single of them survived as they unluckily came up against Space Marines who were not expected to be there. He helped ensure their destruction as well, as he killed many of them himself. From there, he found himself hide within the underbelly of the human society, and clawed his way to become a mercenary. He learned so much of the universe outside the Eldar, and the lies he was fed only became easier to break through with time.

Ever since, he was on the path to find his craftworld and take his revenge upon them. He would find some way to ensure they suffered. In some way, the Councils vision would become true, but it was only through their own foolishness and arrogance that it would come to pass. For that reason, when he had heard that the Craftoworld was destroyed, he found the irony to be beyond cathartic. Yet, once again they had taken away all he had; his chance for revenge. But now… there was still a chance for some to be left alive. If there were, it would be by his own hands that all the Eldar of his Craftworld met their end. That was all he had left.

Mara was completely focused on her goal. She ignored everything else on her path as she made her way through the ship. The first thing she had noticed when she had left the ship, she saw that there was not the usual guard. Argus wasn't there either, and she knew it was likely due to their stay being nearly over. If she knew anything however, she knew that Roland wouldn't leave without her aboard. For all his eccentrics, he was not one to abandon his crew. Or at least, one as potentially useful as herself.

It took no time before she finally made it to the hole in the wall. She pushed aside the metal and ducked inside. She rushed through the mess of wires and pipes as she came to the small box room where Argus and Laeria both turned to look at her. Fresh crumbs of bread on Laerias cheeks as she held a small biscuit in her hand. Argus was surprised with the urgency that showed on Maras face as he began to stand. He should have known something was strange when he was told that he did not have duty today. When they gave him an extra set of rations as well.

"Mara? What's with the rush? Is something going on?"

Mara took a deep breath as she calmed her heart. She knelt down in front of Laeria as she brushed the crumbs from her face.

"Laeria, you should have better manners than this."

She then looked up at Argus.

"Yes… something is going on. We need to go, now."

Argus felt his heart skip a beat.

"W-Why? What happened?"

Laeria felt the scared and worried emotions from the two of them. She could feel it deep in her chest as she looked from one to the other.

"We weren't… I…"

Mara shook her head.

"It's ok, calm down. This ship is going to be leaving the station soon, and the rogue trader is going to be staying behind to watch it. You both are coming with me. We'll find some way to avoid notice, and I'll have you both stay with me aboard the rogue traders ship until this one leaves. Then… well figure it out from there. Knowing Roland we will likely be stuck at this station for a while."

Argus let out a deep breath of relief. He patted Laeria on her shoulder as he gave a small smile.

"Ok. I guess it's time we left this place."

Laeria looked up at Argus. How could he so quickly say that? Even if this place wasn't one he cared about, he and her shared a lot of time here. This had been his home much longer than she had been with him as well... to just leave it…

"Argus… won't you miss this place?"

Argus took a moment to look around his safe haven. His one bastion aboard this massive hulk of metal. The things he collected strewn about the place which he would soon leave behind. He and Learia shared a lot of time here, but, in the end it was only a place. To stay here would be to invite death and to live as a caged animal until it happened. He had little care for the ship itself, or the time he spent here without Laeria or even Mara around. He told himself that if he had the opportunity to take her away, give her something better than this metal box, he wouldn't hesitate. And so he would keep to that promise. He gave her a smile as he patted her head softly.

"No. Not as long as you are safe and sound. Living in this little box is no way to live Laeria. We have to go."

Laeria smiled as she saw the same determined face that Argus always had return to him. No matter what, she would have stayed with him. Though she had gotten to know Mara, Argus was still the first one to have ever become close to her heart. That he thought of her like this, warmed her soul. Not that the fear of the unknown didn't shake her bones and beat her heart. Still, she would hold on. She hugged him tightly.

"Ok."

Argus looked to Mara.

"When do we leave?"

Mara looked back through the crack in the wall.

"Now. We can't afford to waste a moment. Laeria."

Laeria turned to face her.

"Y-Yes?"

Mara pulled off the cap she had taken from her room, the one all the members of Roland's crew were given. She hadn't had a good use for it till now, and as miraculous as it was, she even depended on it.

"Put this on and do not, under any circumstance, take it off. Understand?"

Laeria pulled the cap over her head and squeezed her ears underneath it as her hair flowed down the sides. It was uncomfortably tight, but she knew why it had to be worn. She nodded as she pressed beside Argus and readied herself for the trip.

"Y-yes. I understand."

Mara took a deep breath.

"And Argus, you are going to be my body guard if anyone asks. I will be sure to inform anyone that stops us about that. Keep the story in check, alright?"

Argus nodded as he placed his helmet back on, pulled his pack from the ground and held up his lasgun.

"Of course. Alright, let's get going."

Together the three of them made their way outside of their safe haven. It would be the last time that anyone had ever entered or left the space, like a time capsule preserving the many moments and memories shared inside. Laeria immediately felt sick as she walked outside. Her legs trembled and her heart beat fiercely as she saw the outside hallway. This was the first time that she had been outside since the day she was brought here. She pressed tightly against Argus as she looked around, a paranoia that instantly set inside her head unnerving her as her body shivered. Argus saw it and immediately wanted to take her back, but he knew he couldn't. She had been cooped up in that little room for too long, and this was necessary to get them away from this place.

"It'll be ok Laeria. It's ok."

Mara looked back at the trembling little girl. Laeria was always so well composed, but she was terrified here. The Eldar had incredibly fierce emotions, and she could only imagine the inner turmoil that she held inside. She stopped as without thought, she reached out her hand.

"Laeria… if… if you arr scared you are allowed to hold my hand."

She didn't reply as she grasped Maras hand tightly. Though it wasn't hard enough to hurt Mara, she could feel all the little trembles that shook her. She wasn't sure why she so suddenly offered such a gesture, but she wouldn't pull away.

"Just hold onto me, and we'll be ok."

In silence, the three of them continued on, through the empty and dark hallways and eventually into the populated ones where guardsmen and voidsmen alike set about their business. Argus commanding officer was nearly about to speak with him, curious of the sight he saw, but Mara gave him such an angry and aggressive look that he had no words that could escape his mouth. As soon as they left earshot he assumed that Argus wouldn't be around any longer and left it at that. There were about three hundred to be left aboard the station with the rogue trader anyway. What was one less guardsman? He could fill his squad up with another. Still… that he attracted the attention of a Knight from an Imperial Knight house intrigued him. Eh, it was above his rank to even guess what the superiors thought.

All went well as they made their way. Eventually, they managed to enter the docking bay where the Rogue Traders ship was. There however, stood their biggest hurdle. Remora waited for Maras return, as she sat on a metal chair at the bottom of the ramp. She just had to see what Mara dragged home. She never thought to see a child with her though.

"Ah. Back home are we, Lady Mara?"

Mara peered aggressively at Remora. This was neither the place nor the time she had hoped to encounter her, but this was how it was. She gave a nod to both Argus and Laeria as they watched with baited breath. Mara cleared her throat as she looked over at her fellow crewmate.

"Hello Remora. Isn't it unbecoming of you to interfere with people business?"

Remora looked past Mara and at the sole guardsman accompanied by a small young girl.

"I have to say, you have very intriguing company with you."

Mara gripped her hands into fists tightly as she calmed her frustrated heart.

"They will be coming with me aboard the station. Is there anything wrong with that?"

Remora smirked as she put one leg over the other and cooed. She leaned back into her chair and continued to watch Mara with wide eyes.

"No. I have no problem with it. Still, I have to say, I never thought you'd bring back a little girl. I would recommend explaining yourself before my curiosity gets the better of me."

Mara should have guessed this would happen. As she glanced back at Laeria and Argus she could see how on edge the both of them were. Especially Laeria who began to breathe heavily, as sweat dropped down her forehead, and she stared intensely at the ground. She had to give Remora an answer, one that made sense and would end this inquiry.

"The girl? She… she's…"

Remora chuckled at the rare uncertainty that Mara spoke with.

"Yes?"

Mara thought for an answer rapidly, but her mouth opened regardless and blurted out one she had not intended.

"She is my daughter."

The silence that fell over all of them was heavy and immediate. Remora for the first time in a while was at a loss, as she had no clue how to respond. Of all the possible answers, that was the one she hadn't assumed. Still, simply by the look of the girl she was at least seven or eight. She knew that Mara hadn't been off Roland's ship long enough to ever have children, let alone come to term. A clone perhaps? No, they looked far too dissimilar, and this transport ship didn't have such technology. It wasn't exactly a highly legal thing among the Mechanicus after all, well, if you weren't Mechanicus anyway. Mara had always been on the ship with her for at least five years now, and before that Mara lived on her home world. Something was suspicious here…

"Really? That is a very shocking answer. Care to expand, Mara?"

Mara gritted her teeth. She said that without thinking and she didn't know how to fix it.

"W-Well…"

Laeria gripped her hand tighter as she leaned onto her. Mara was reminded of the severity of this task and took a brief moment to think. Then it hit her, as she took a deep breath.

"I bought her from one of the families aboard this ship. Though, I suppose adopted is more the word that I would care to use. I am not ready yet to have children of my own, but House Valor needs to continue. So, I picked out a girl who had talent and promise to raise as my own and eventually become a knight herself. I cannot sit idly by anymore and let my houses legacy die."

Remora was more than disappointed with how utterly appropriate it was for Mara to do that. It was boring, but it at least was no room for concern.

"Ah, I see. How drab."

She looked at the guardsman stood behind her.

"Then, what of him? Please tell me that you have some enjoyment in that proud, noble and duty first life of yours."

Mara turned red as she decided to simply play along with Remoras teasing this time. She didn't want to be in this situation any longer.

"Maybe."

Remora gained her smirk again as she saw the blush in her cheeks.

"Alright then, go on. We got a few more things to take care of while we prepare to take over the station for a while. Go to your room and, 'relax' why don't you? If you need to, you can even send the girl to my room for a while. I promise, I'll take good care of her."

At that Remora turned around and walked away up the ramp and back into the ship. Mara let out a silent sigh as she looked to the ground. She hadn't had such a tense conversation in such a long time. Laeria squeezed her hand as she whispered out her words, so overcome with tense emotions that she found it hard to be any louder.

"T-Thank you Mara."

Argus too patted a hand on her shoulder.

"Really, thanks. We've almost made it."

Mara smiled. This really made it worth it.

"Of course."

Without pause they rushed up the ramp after her, hopeful that this was the last stretch. As they entered the ship however, the one who hid in the shadows kicked himself off the wall. Aloi had tired of staying in his room and decided to investigate Mara and what she did with the suppressant he gave her. To that end he had waited at the entrance, hidden in the corner by the door as the lights tended to flicker there. When he saw her, followed by a guardsman and a small girl he couldn't help but chuckle. What was this?

"Well, Lady Mara. What are you doing? New additions to the crew? Or something else."

Mara started to draw her sword as she looked at him, but ignored him all the same. She looked to Laeria and Argus.

"Come on. Just this way."

The three of them tried to pass, though as soon as Laeria stepped beside him, Aloi felt a shock. Something was off about this girl. He reached to grab the girl.

"What is this? A child?"

Argus bashed away his hand with the butt of his lasgun and then pointed it into Alois chest.

"Don't you touch her!"

Aloi grasped his wrist as he rubbed it. Rather protective of this little girl.

"Such odd company you have with you. And how protective of your young company."

Laeria could feel it, though she didn't dare look at him. She felt the rage and the anguish that this Eldar leaked. He was an Eldar, no doubt about it, for her powers were sure to inform her as they poked at the edge of his psyche. She tried her hardest to suppress them, hide herself, but she soon became sort of breath and her vision blurry.

Aloi looked at the girl intently. He felt something about her, like she reacted to him. Not in the normal sense, but in the way that Eldar… oh. Well, well. He knew the questions that Mara posed him were suspicious. Suppressants had to go somewhere.

"I suggest you explain yourself, Mara."

Mara shook her head.

"I don't have to tell you anything. But this girl is my adoptive daughter, bought from the stock of families aboard the transports ship's crew. She is going to help me continue my family's legacy. The guardsman is my personal body guard, and he will be watching over her for me. And before you ask, those suppressants of yours are certainly good for bargaining. Now, I suggest you leave before I truly get angry."

Aloi grunted, disappointed that she gave a fairly reasonable explanation. While he knew that she lied to him, based purely on the nervous sweat that formed at the tip of her forehead, he also knew that he didn't have much influence as a xenos. He had to be much more careful. Though as he looked at the girl, he saw how difficult she tried to hide herself, and refused to look at him. She seemed just about ready to fall unconscious.

"I must say, this little bought slave of yours doesn't seem very healthy. Might I recommend getting a new one?"

Argus didn't notice that Aloi was an Eldar, completely focused on getting Laeria to safety and his growing disdain for this person and his comments. Still he gritted his teeth and said nothing, though he stepped between her and him.

Mara too wanted to finish this, but she couldn't cause a scene. Not here.

"Be quiet for once Aloi."

Aloi continued to stare at Laeria. She was an Eldar, and he immediately assumed she was from the same craftworld as him. He had to be sure.

"Let me just see her. Why she hasn't even looked at me. If she is going to be aboard this ship, well, she have better get used to it."

He reached out again to grab her, only for Argus again to attempt and shove him. However, Aloi was prepared this time as he pushed aside his lasgun and then slammed him against the wall. He would have done more, had Mara not reacted and drew her sword as she placed it besides his neck. From a small way down the hallway, Roland and several of his crew saw them. Immediately, as he hated scuffles between his crew, he made his way to intervene.

"What the hell is going on? All of you, enough."

Mara pulled away her sword as Aloi stepped back and leaned against the wall. Internally he was furious, though he recognized how his emotions nearly overtook him again. He had to be much more careful about this. He would find out the girls origin in time…

Argus stood back up, slightly bruised and dazed, but fine all the same. He picked up his lasgun and pulled Laeria away from Aloi. Mara stood in the middle as she looked to Roland.

"A small spat. If you are going to have an Eldar aboard this ship, Roland, keep him under control."

Roland narrowed his eyes as he looked at the lot of them.

"Usually, he is. Now, someone have better explain-"

Aloi began to walk away as he waved a hand back at the group.

"I'll let 'Lady' Mara explain. I'll be in my quarters."

Roland only sighed as he looked back to Mara and her two companions. A guardsman and a little girl? Well, assuming that she so brazenly said out-loud that he had a xenos aboard his crew and the guardsman didn't immediately run off to tell the others, he didn't have to worry too much. She wasn't one to be so brash. Still, he never imagined that Mara of all people would be causing problems. Generally she was in her room or sulking elsewhere aboard the ship.

"Who are the-"

Mara held up her hand.

"These two are mine, I am bringing them with me, the girl I bought from one of the families aboard the ship to take on as my own, the guardsman is one I hired to act as bodyguard for her, and I would very much like to get them settled in."

Roland hardly got another word in as she pulled both the guardsman and the girl away, down the hallway. Though he was the captain he didn't exactly have a great grasp on his more interesting crew members. Seemed Mara had a lot of things going on at the moment. He could only suppose that she decided to finally stop sulking about the place. She and Aloi never really got along all that well, and they fought regularly, but this time was much tenser. Seemed he would have to take better care of watching over them. Especially now that he had the added responsibility of taking care of a vox-station of all things.

He sighed again as he turned to his crewmen who gave him the same uncertain look that he had. His crew were very good at their job, he made sure of it. Sure he had a tendency to attract some interesting characters, but hey, it was the life of a rogue trader. He had freedom to go about the place as he saw fit. In that vein, he was always absolutely damn sure he never jeopardized that. Recently, the life of rogue tradering had been rather bleh, and due to some… unfortunate circumstances, he wasn't going to be able to keep it up much longer. Well, if everything went according to plan, he wouldn't have to worry about it. He would just offer his services elsewhere and things would fall into place.

Having, **willingly**, taken the responsibility of watching over the station, he was given an additional 300 Imperial Guardsmen to take care of. That was shit. Not something he wanted to do, but hell, he found himself wrangled into it. There could have at least been some women thrown in, but all of them were men. Seemed this transport ship had something against drafting from both sexes like most did. Oh well, he would be sure to handle it accordingly. Many scoffed at his ability as Captain, but he was smart enough to use such misconceptions to his advantage. He wouldn't allow any mismanagement and any infraction done by the guardsman would be met swiftly and with upmost punishment. He only had to wait for several months after all, before his associate arrived.

As they reached her quarters, Mara opened the door, rushed her two companions inside and let out a loud, and refreshing sigh of relief. Her room was small, the same size as all the crew, save Remora and Roland's. Given her noble status, she did get a few perks, such as having a fully linin bed and other furnishings. She had a personal bathroom, a small closet, and a set of drawers. Not much, but it would be enough for the three of them to survive anyway.

"We made it. Somehow…"

Laeria stumbled into the room as she laid herself against the soft linens of a bed, and almost immediately fell asleep. She was exhausted, and the small time she was outside had strained her beyond what she expected. That it happened so quickly only exacerbated it. Argus' heart beat loudly in his ears, given how tense it had gotten up till but a few minutes ago. That Laeria seemingly fell unconscious nearly gave him a shock as he reached out to check her. He only halted as he saw her breathing normally again. She had a lot on stress put on her, a lot he didn't want her to have. But, Laeria was safe and sound here, and so he found some relief. He picked her up gently, her body worryingly light, and placed her softly on the bed without any objection from Mara. He took a deep breath as he pulled the sheets over her. He was just as exhausted as she was, but, he could at least handle it.

"She must be exhausted."

Mara nodded. It wasn't hard to notice how increasingly worse Laeria's state got as they left her former haven. She hadn't been outside in a long time, and devoid of other contact must have… Laeria had gone through a lot. She still managed to hold strong, and make it here with only a few minimal incidents. That the three of them made it was what mattered. Even if Aloi clearly began to catch onto them. Still, as she watched Laeria sleep so soundly she felt relieved and could put some of her worry aside for now.

"Yes. She hadn't been outside in a long time. But, she pulled through. She truly is a tough spirited girl."

Argus nodded.

"Yes, she is."

He began to frown as he thought back about that man who confronted him. While in the moment it didn't fully register it, he realized that he was an Eldar. Such a surprise to find one here.

"That man was an Eldar, wasn't he?"

Mara nodded as she leaned against her door. She grimaced at the thought of Aloi, barely hiding her disdain.

"Yes. But he isn't just any Eldar. For some reason, he hates his own kind. There is a reason I concealed her identity from him."

Argus only gave a nod. Though as he looked at Laeria he remembered what she had told him when she first began to have problems. She felt there was another Eldar somewhere, angry and wanting to kill her. He didn't know what to think of it at the time. But he knew now that she was right. He wouldn't let any harm come to her.

"Then that's all the reason we have to keep him away from her."

Mara gave let out a sigh.

"Agreed."

She looked at the mirror on top of her dresser, at the reflection of both herself, Argus and Laeria. They had managed to get aboard the ship, and soon enough the transport would leave. But this was only a change of scenery if they didn't know where to go from here. While she was glad they were together, things were only going to get much harder from here if they didn't have a plan.

Argus too recognized the reality of what they had done. He knew he and Laeria could no longer stay aboard the Transport, for Laeria's sake and his own. It hurt him, to his very soul as he saw how difficult it was for Laeria to be outside their bastion. It was his fault that she was trapped there for so long, unable to move about and interact with anyone else. The rations he shared only enough to sustain them, even if he gave her most of it. Though this change was necessary, it still weighed on him. He wanted better for her, but now that they escaped the transport, he had no idea where to go or what to do. That scared him, more than anything else.

"So what now?"

Mara closed her eyes as she tilted her head towards the ceiling. She had already given this some thought before, always sure to be prepared. Still, the sudden excuse she gave the others earlier rang in her mind. Perhaps…

"Though I said that Laeria was going to be my daugh… my, erm, my adopted family member, for the sake of my legacy, perhaps that is not such a bad idea."

Argus wasn't quite sure what she meant. Though she had told them much about herself, such as her being a noble from a destroyed world, she didn't explain everything. She mentioned her father a lot, and her family's legacy meant a lot to her as well.

"What do you mean?"

Mara thought of her knight, still locked in its stasis. The symbol of her knighthood and her nobility wasting away. While once it was a symbol of her Houses destruction to her, it gave her thought now. She could not hope to be fit to pilot it or any other Knight forever. This was a hope to rebuild perhaps. She looked over to Argus as she pushed herself off from the door.

"She can help me continue my family of Imperial Knights. We can rebuild, I can find some sway somewhere and attempt to start House Valor once more. You included. This way, I can find a way to keep the three of us safe and away from harm, and if I manage to procure a world or at least the services to repair my armor in full, then we can escape having to hide away. Laeria is a strong girl, one who has a lot of strength and potential. Certainly, this can be a path for her."

Argus was puzzled, unsure what being an Imperial Knight actually was. Mara had mentioned it a lot, though she rarely explained much. Though, what he did know was that Mara had a lot more power than he did. Being a noble, he imagined would make it much easier to keep Laeria safe. In the end, he didn't really care what happened to him, though he wouldn't want to leave Laeria's side. He would always be there as long as he was able. And Mara too, she continually risked so much to help them. While he had found her suspicious and dangerous before, he now depended on her. She managed to convince him that she was more than what he expected. She was the only other friend he could say he had made in such a long time, and that warmed his heart. He would stay strong, no matter what they did. Still, choice mattered, and he would not decide for Laeria. It was her decision to make.

"Thank you, Mara, for doing all of this. I think you are right, that would probably be the best. But, let's wait for her to make the decision herself."

Mara nodded as she sat down and scooted beside Argus. How quickly he was to accept her suggestion. He always put Laeria before him, ready and willing to do what he had to. He really was a man of valor.

"You're a good man Argus. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Everything happened quickly. So quickly that it felt as time had barely past. Reality was, that the procedure for the Rogue Trader vessel to undock from the transport ship and then dock with the station took nearly two cycles to complete. The entire time, Mara hid both Laeria and Argus in her room. She barely went outside herself, not that she needed to leave other than to procure food. Though, they all could not ease the weight of potentially being found out. In time, it passed and soon enough the transport ship left to continue its mission elsewhere. The Rogue Trader Roland and his crew left to take care of the station, with a collection of nearly three hundred guardsmen to support them. Not that all of them were completely prepared for such a shift. However, things moved swiftly as Roland took immediate charge and began to enforce his authority as leader.

Many of the guardsman whom he had brought with him were those whom he had drank with, and so they were easy to warm up to the idea. Compared to their former superiors, Roland was a send from the Emperor himself. This was all planned of course, as Roland always liked to think ahead. He understood what many of his 'fellow' captains, commanders, and all that other shit leaders of men called themselves thought of him. He simply didn't care, he knew how to handle things far better and with a much tighter grip than they ever could. If his crew liked him enough he didn't have to be incredibly strict, constantly watch over them and fear insubordination. He didn't have to risk incompetency on behalf of his crew, or for mistakes to be covered up in fear. They would willingly do their best for him, and even die given the word. He who is willing will do more than he who is a slave. That was a lesson he learned from his father in the ways of managing his family's trade. Not that he didn't command firmly and with strictness, that was necessary. But it helped that he was at least willing to acknowledge his crew, drink with them and not be seen as some tyrannical maniac.

Still, he knew full and well that his time as Rogue Trader was coming to an end. It started a long time before his current circumstances. Just like every other important family in this damned universe, they always fought over power. He liked to keep out of the foolish games of family politics, content to simply drift about the stars doing as he pleased. Unfortunately, that was also his one regret. He handled it with too little care.

Roland rolled his shoulders as he looked about the large room aboard the station he had chosen for himself. What would have once been the Stations reigning commander, it was the nicest place onboard. While his actual room aboard his own ship was much nicer, completely furnished and outfitted with all of the nicest tech, trinkets, and so on, it was still woefully small. That and he couldn't bear the thought of getting any more attached to the ship than he already was and back out of his deal. While he was going to be staying here at the station for such a long time, he decided that he may as well ween off his precious ship. He made many deals in his lifetime, and every time he always felt in control. This time however, he had to take a gamble he couldn't cheat on, that he couldn't guess the cards that would be played, and that he couldn't foresee the final resolution. There was very little in the way of altering things to turn his way. All because he betted everything on trust alone, and gave up every hidden card, something he never did. In this universe, very few were to ever be trusted, and it had to be earned. Even then, he wouldn't have put so much on the line as he currently did if it weren't for what was to come. This time there were no other cards to play, there were no ways to weasel his way out of it, and he had to make a decision.

He looked at the small picture of him and Remora, side by side in their uniforms as they posed for an official purpose he couldn't recall. It made him smile as he pressed it to his chest and leaned back into his captain's chair. He had all of his things moved from the ship into this room, yet it still was odd and strange to him. That it was so spacious made it seem like he didn't have much at all, though that was not nearly true. He would miss this life of freedom, but he gave that up the moment he decided to have something more than a wanderer's path. Hell, he could have made it work if it wasn't for his families problems…

He grimaced as he straightened out and pulled out the top drawer of his desk. Inside was the official paperwork that noted him as a rogue trader, his family's emblem of a golden eagle surrounded by gilded flames, and another picture laid flat on its front so that he couldn't see the image. This last item, he despised. He grabbed it in his hands as he turned it over. There he saw himself, his father, his uncle and his cousin stood shoulder to shoulder. He was young in this picture, only at the ripe age of fifteen. So was that cold hearted woman who called herself his cousin. How sad that this was his only family portrait.

"If only families didn't have to squabble."

He slammed the picture back into the drawer and shut it. He was chosen to be the one who took on the family responsibility of captaining this ship, to become the next Rogue Trader in its legacy. His father made that decision, much to the ire of his Uncle. He wanted his daughter to take over, but his father was the patriarch of the family. Roland once naively figured it would settle itself out as soon as he left. After all what could they do? He was the one who had the ship, had the title and had the name. How wrong he was. It took a long time, but eventually he discovered that his father had been killed, though they called it a 'mysterious' incident. As if anything mysterious in this universe wasn't immediately suspect. This therefore made his uncle the head of his small, small family. Apparently it gave him the right to revoke the license that was given to him, and soon enough he would be hunted down and his ship taken, his title removed, and his crew likely killed with himself included. No matter how long he ran or how clever he was, they would find him eventually if he didn't act. Real shit business, but it was what it was.

His family as small as it was, and being among the Rogue Traders, made it all too easy for this to come to pass. But hell with all that. If they were determined to take it, he would be sure they never got it. Even if he would never get the chance to captain his ship again, or tote himself an esteemed Rogue Trader, he had new goals in mind. Family. He wouldn't repeat the mistakes of the past. He wanted to live a good life and settle. He already had the girl of his dreams, he just needed freedom from the insanity of his family and this hellhole of a universe. Thankfully for him, he had made many friends over the years. Some very, very powerful friends. One of which was his last bet to get him the hell out of these shitty circumstances and allow him to move on without a target on his back.

He found himself relaxed as he took several deep breathes. Always stuck in his head he supposed. Even if nobody but him could tell. Hell, he made sure of it. Save for the one person who always seemed to look right through him. Remora. Such a sexy lady she was, fierce and determined. She made his life a lot brighter, and managed to convince him that a life of endless adventures might not be what he wanted. Somehow. While he hadn't thought much of relationships before, it was all over for him when he met her. The one person he fully trusted.

He looked behind him at his bed, Remora still asleep as she pulled the blankets over her naked body. A warm smile on her face as she nestled her head in the soft fabric of the pillow. She had been very… excitable lately. She always did get what she wanted. A life of rogue tradery was great and all, but, it wasn't everything like his uncle and cousin so desperately acted like it was. Always contentious in the eyes of the Imperium, always in danger, always suspect and always on the move. Exciting sure, but how long would it last before it came back to bite him in the ass?

Remora's eyes opened as she stretched her neck and peeked out at him, her eyes just barely over the covers.

"Oh, you aren't in bed?"

Roland shook his head, knowing that look in her eyes.

"We only just moved in."

She chuckled as her eyes swayed down at herself.

"Well, all the reason to get our scent all over the place. Mark our territory. Really make this place special."

Roland stood from his chair.

"And how would we do that?"

Remora laid back onto the bed as she gently pressed down on the covers.

"Oh, I have a few ideas."

Elsewhere, Mara and Argus prepared themselves for the coming day cycle. They couldn't simply stay in the room forever. While Mara had been known to be a bit reclusive, that was before she brought two others aboard the ship. Pretty soon, people would begin to ask question lest they never leave. That and, Argus and her discussed Aloi while Laeria slept. Not that she didn't listen in as she pretended to close her eyes. He had not come by, nor had he even showed his face since they docked with the station. That Mara knew he could be ever present in the shadows only heightened her weariness. They knew he would do something sooner or later if they didn't. So, they decided that for the present, they could no longer stay in Maras's room. While Argus told her that she did not have to leave it with them, she hardly cared enough about it to want to stay.

No, she was adamant about finding a room for the three of them aboard the station, hopefully far away enough from everyone else to give Laeria room to move about and accustom herself to being outside again. They had discussed together about her plan to take Laeria under her wing as a noble of House Valor. If she agreed to it, they would begin her training as soon as possible and help her temper her powers, somehow. She knew she wouldn't be able to get any more suppressants than they currently had, so they had to rely on other means. That and as long as they were out of the ship, she hoped that Aloi would be unable to get them, knowing he would be confined to the ship so as not to startle the guardsmen. At least, as far as she hoped.

Argus took a deep breath as he looked at Laeria, who was still asleep. He had slept on the floor since they had arrived here, while Mara slept beside Laeria. While it wasn't the most comfortable of situations, he dealt with it. It was actually softer than the cold metal of his old sanctuary, as the room was carpeted. He looked over to Mara who finished dressing as she pulled her shirt down over her chest.

"Are you sure that the rogue trader will simply let us take a room aboard the station?"

She nodded as she looked at herself in the mirror. She began to comb her hair as she glanced at Laeria behind her. She knew Roland wouldn't be such a fool as to deny her request. At least, that was what she told herself. While she had a good idea of him, she didn't really know much about her patron for all these years. Roland was a lot of things, many on the offset seemingly negative, but she learned that his cunning had little bounds. Either way, she had to make it work.

"He'll agree to it. And then we won't have to worry about anyone else interfering with us. Don't worry Argus, I promise, I'll make sure we are ok."

Argus was truly glad to have found such a reliable person as Mara. Even if first impressions involved being beaten by her.

"Thank you Mara. Truly."

Mara found herself smile, a slight blush on her cheeks she could not fully explain. She shook it away quickly, so as to not let him notice and turned around dressed in the same fashion she always was.

"Very well, I have better be off."

Argus stood up and rubbed a hand through his fizzled hair.

"Hold on, before we do this… we should ask Laeria about what she wants to do."

Mara turned to face the girl. They hadn't proposed their plan to her yet. She was still in shock from having left the sanctuary her and Argus lived in for such a long time, and from her encounter with Aloi. She was a strong girl, but she was still a child and it showed.

"Alright."

She was about to grab her shoulder to shake Laeria awake, but she opened her eyes and sat up on her own. She had listened to everything they talked about, though she didn't say anything. She thought about it, about becoming an Imperial Knight like Mara. It seemed, she hardly even thought of herself as Eldar much anymore, the intense emotions and powers she had only cruel reminders of what she was. She had even begun to see Argus and Mara as the parents she barely recalled anymore. It was only natural for her to want to follow in her parents footsteps, and for all they had done for her… they truly wanted the best for her. While she actively suppressed her psychic awareness, she still read their emotions and knew their sincerity was real. Yet, she recognized the reality that she would tie herself against the Eldar entirely. Mara and Argus were both members of the Imperium of Mankind, an enemy millennia old of the Eldar, and she… she desired to join them. She wanted to be their daughter!

But… but… she was scared as well. Laeria winced as she slightly shuddered. She worried that one day, she would come full circle and end up on the side against Eldar. Such an odd thought to have, but when she saw that other Eldar, Aloi, it came to her mind. The hatred that he had for her, and for some reason she could not explain. Such intense anger frightened her, and she worried increasingly about the danger that both Argus and Mara put themselves in for her. She even began to wonder, if she was worth throwing their lives away for. They both cared so much for her, a xenos, an alien, an Eldar. They should hate her, but they did not. She cared for them so much, but she couldn't handle the thought that something bad would happen to them because of her. What risk would she continue to put them in lest she stay with them? She could not stay silent any longer…

"I… already know. I… I've been listening to you both talk about it…"

Tears welled up in her eyes as the conflict that swirled in her heart and her mind poured out. Argus and Mara both sat beside her on the bed, instantly worried for what she had to say. Laeria sniffled through the liquid that dripped from her eyes as she wiped them away and spurted out.

"Stop putting yourselves into danger for me! Why… why do you both continue to do so much for me…? Don't you know that I can get you both killed? I… I… I am a filthy xenos! I… I!"

Mara knew that eventually Laeria wouldn't be able to well in her doubts. She saw it the moment they took her out of her sanctuary. Mara however, as she knew Argus too, had already made their decision.

"You are a sweet girl, Laeria. Never call yourself a xenos again… I do not see you that way. Argus does not either. Do not trouble yourself with such things. I made this decision on my own, and to the end I will see it through."

Laeria wiped again at the tears that poured from her eyes.

"But… don't you both get it! I… I want to be with you. I want to be your… your… you are both the parents I never had. I want to take on your legacy, I want to follow in your footsteps, I want to be like you both! But, But, But…. I don't want you to die. I don't want either of you to continue taking this foolish risks to save a filthy xeno!"

Argus was taken back, just for a moment. He shook his head, took a deep breath and placed a hand on Laerias shoulder as she turned to face him. He gave the softest smile he could, and spoke just as calmly.

"Don't you ever call yourself a Xenos, Laeria. You are you, Laeria. And I already made my choice. Don't you recall out first meeting? The day I met you, I decided to make that choice for myself and I will not back out on it. This is your choice to make Laeria, if your heart desires it, then do it. We will stand by you regardless."

Laeria looked from Mara to Argus and back again. The two of them were foolish! They were so foolish… but they were her family. And she loved them for it. Through her sobs she wiped away the tears and managed a smile.

"Then I want to stay with you for as long as we can."

Argus pulled her in for a hug, Mara watching with a content smile.

"I'm glad."

Mara whispered beneath her breath.

"Me too, my little Eldar girl. My daughter…"

She walked over to her counter where she kept a clean pitcher of water. Something she was always sure to keep on hand, given the relative rarity of it. She poured a small portion into a glass on the side and pulled out one of the last suppressants from the side drawer. She walked back over to Laeria and handed her the glass.

"Before I go, be sure to take the suppressant."

Laeria nodded as she slipped the round pill into her mouth and swallowed. She quickly drank the water as the pill went down. It was always a weird feeling when she took them, as if her senses immediately dulled and her mind felt sluggish. However, it quickly relieved the tension that her powers caused as they calmed down. It was a strange feeling, one she imagined most Eldar would hate, however she found the feeling to be preferable. Still, it had the terrible side effect of making her tired and sleepy. Something that her two caretakers made sure to keep her from.

Argus pushed off the bed as he stretched his arms.

"Alright, we'll wait for you to return. Me and Laeria will continue our normal routine of exercise."

Laeria sighed. While she managed to keep pace, the exercises weren't the first thing she looked forward to in the day. Regardless, it kept her body healthy and her mind occupied. Having relieved some tension by discussing her worries, she even looked forward to it today. She looked back to Mara again as she made her way to the door.

"Take care… Mara. Thank you."

Mara nodded as she opened her door and stepped outside. She looked left and then right down the hallway, devoid of anyone as usual. There weren't that many crewman aboard the ship, only around a hundred. It was an odd number for sure, given that the ship barely had enough to fulfill its minimum roster. However, Roland had his reasons, and in this moment it was a good thing. Though she was paranoid of Aloi overstepping, even slightly. It took a considerable amount of faith to believe he would act without her here. She had to be careful…

She walked down the hallway and made her way to where Roland's quarters were, only to meet the one whom she didn't want to see. The Eldar stood across the door, eyes locked against the opposing wall. He didn't move his attention when she approached, though he knew she was there.

"Ah, Mara. What brings you here?"

"To see the captain. Now get out of the way."

Aloi shrugged his shoulders.

"Ah, you haven't heard? Well you've only kept yourself locked into your room with your two guests since we docked on this station. He decided to move to a room aboard the station."

Mara turned around immediately as she began to walk away.

"Then I suppose I have better go find him."

Aloi rolled his shoulders as he stood in the middle of the space. He took a deep breath as he watched Mara walk away. He already disabled the cameras and he knew that the crew rarely came this way.

"So, how is that little Eldar girl that you are taking care of?"

Mara's blood ran cold as she stopped in place. A hand held firmly on her sword by reflex, though she did her best to calm her nerves.

"What nonsense are you talking about Xeno?"

Aloi smirked.

"You can lie to me if you want, Mara. But we both know that girl you have with you is an Eldar. One from the craftworld that was destroyed in this region of space. From my craftworld."

Mara shook her head, and forced herself to keep walking.

"You don't know what you are talking about. That desperate for company? You are pathetic."

Aloi laughed quietly to himself. In time he would get his prize, and finish off the last of his craftworld. However, he would be patient.

"I will kill her. And if you stand in my way, both you and that guardsman will go with her."

Mara slightly drew her sword, finding herself frozen in place once more. While she had never considered Aloi a threat before, she was not arrogant enough to ignore just how dangerous he was. This time, his words rang cold and without emotion, as if certainty carried in his words. There was little use in acting now. He knew. Yet, she wouldn't give him that.

"You go anywhere near me or them, and I will be the one to kill you. Besides, where would you go, Aloi? You are surrounded by members of the Imperium. There is no escape."

Aloi could not help but let out a laugh as he hit the side of the wall in amusement.

"You truly believe I care about that? My path was decided for me a long time ago. If I end up dead in the process, I wouldn't regret a thing. It would be preferable. If that is what this cruel universe wants of me, Mara, then why should I go against my fate? Please, simply remember Mara, and keep a watch on your back. One way or another I will fulfill my revenge. Maybe not today, perhaps not on the coming day, but eventually I will fulfill destiny. Now go on and live with that uncertainty over your shoulders."

Mara gritted her teeth tightly together as she pressed onward.

"You sick bastard."

She made her way as far away from him as possible. She had thought of going back for Laeria and Argus immediately, but she didn't. Aloi wasn't so foolish as to act now. That he confronted her so boldly showed that he put a lot of thought into this. He knew she could not tell anyone else. He knew that she couldn't lash out and kill him either. Not unless she was willing to reveal Laeria as an Eldar as a consequence. He simply wished to toy with her, and likely hoped that she would give her up. But she would never give up on her valor. He knew that, and so, it was only a tactic to aggravate her into action. Going forward, they would have to be more careful of him. If it came down to it, she would kill him outright. For now however, she had to focus on getting them a place away from the rest of the crew and deep in the station. From there, they would figure out what to do next.

It took a decent amount of time, but she managed to locate where Roland had decided to move. Why he chose to leave the ship at all was disconcerting. Something else was going on, and that was the other reason she had to meet with him. Though the longer she was away from the others, the worry that something bad would occur boiled at the back of her mind. Such a strong emotion, one she still had difficulty adjusting to.

The station was sparse, with most of the guardsmen all located close to the ship as they went about maintaining the facilities. Many of them already converted over to Roland's side as if they were additional crewman, their Imperial Uniforms traded for those of the Rogue Traders. Well, the extra uniforms that he insisted to always be in storage which now seemed to come in handy. He always seemed to be prepared…

The trip to his new quarters was a surprisingly short one, his new room located in the upper sector of the station, close to the docking bay which the ship was attached. The entire walk silent as soon as she left the immediate area surrounding the ship, very eerie indeed. When she arrived to the large bronze eagle laden door at the end of what seemed like a nondescript hallway, she knew she was at the right place. She was in what was the officers sector of the station, so everything was already far more furnished and polished than anywhere else, but the crude metal sign that read "Captains Quarters" placed over the Eagle door was enough to discern his location.

She walked over to it and knocked, unsure what to expect. Knowing Roland, he was likely with Remora, and she refused to walk into something that she would regret seeing. After a few moments she heard shuffling behind the door and footsteps. Even more moments after that the door budged open with a click as Remora pushed it.

She was surprised at her visitor. Hell, she figured she was having a good time in her room with her new 'companions'. She hadn't seen her since the cycle they docked with the station. She pushed the door all the way open, as she looked at the serious faced Mara.

"Ah, lady Mara. What brings you here today?"

Mara looked at Remora, up and down. She had hastily dressed in her uniform. While she usually presented herself as collected, today she saw noted several buttons on her shirt misaligned and her pants slightly sagged behind her rear. Her hair on first look tidy, though from the many strands that poked themselves up and off the majority, she knew it was hastily put down. Really, Mara only assumed she hadn't actually worn her uniform or dressed herself with her usual care for at least several days. Either way, she wasn't here to judge her on her decisions. She had business to focus on.

"I was looking for Roland. I had a request about acquiring a room aboard the station for me and my two companions. My, er, my adopted daughter needs space to be trained."

Remora smiled as she waved her inside the room and walked over to the desk at the middle of the room. Mara didn't care to look around and view the décor as she watched Remora closely. She couldn't let her guard down. Remora sat on the chair with her legs over the left armrest, and her back leaned against the right.

"Well, I'm sure that can be arranged. Roland's pretty easy to convince after all."

Mara narrowed her eyes.

"Yes, well, I have other things I want to ask. So might I inquire where he is?"

Remora chuckled as she held a finger to her lips.

"Oh, he's out inspecting the crew and the guardsmen. He has to get everything ready for our coming guests."

Mara raised an eyebrow. Who exactly was he expecting?

"Guests?"

Remora rolled her eyes.

"Oh you know, Rogue Traders and their connections. I'd hate to ruin the surprise, but let's say it's some real important people."

Mara was curious, though she figured that any further inquiry would be overstepping. Roland always had something going on, in all the years she had known him. His schemes never seemed to come to a close. Either way, unless it concerned her current situation, she would ignore it.

"Ah, well, that will be something. So how long till he returns?"

The two of them looked at one another in silence. The awkward tension only grew as Remora stared at her with a smirk, many thoughts swirling in her head. After a while, Mara had to look away so as to not feel her gaze. When Remora felt it was long enough she finally decided to speak up.

"So then, how is your new adopted family member? And that guardsman of yours? I hope you haven't been doing anything shameful in front of the girl with him."

Mara knew that it would come to this with her.

"They are doing well. Thank you for asking. And no, I have not done anything… shameful."

Remora's eyes drooped into a bored glare.

"How dull. Have you actually even had intercourse? Or are you too much of a pure noble to concern yourself with that?"

Mara did not want to continue this conversation, but seeing as she had to wait for Roland and that Remora would likely not let her go, she had little choice.

"No, I have not. Not… yet anyway. Look, I have much to worry about aside from such things."

Remora rested her cheek against her palm, propped up by her arm on the armrest.

"I thought you were done moping about. Decided to take charge of your own life and stop letting that past of yours chain you down. Life, especially in this universe isn't infinite."

Mara shook her head as she crossed her arms, looking aside.

"I will rebuild House Valor. Why do you suppose I took in the girl?"

Remora rolled her eyes. While she didn't do it often, she decided that perhaps it was time to give Mara serious advice. Knowing her, she likely would disregard it, but, she was tired of holding her tongue.

"Continue to tell yourself that, Mara. Still so constricted by the past and this universes expectations of you. You know what I think you want?"

Mara looked back at her, slightly taken off guard by the sudden sincerity that she spoke with.

"Oh? What would that be?"

Remora closed her eyes as she pressed into the chair.

"You want a family, Mara. Those whom you can care after and who will care after you. You were lonely, afraid of this big, scary universe and so you clung onto something as abstract as 'duty'. That is what drives this obsession with recreating a dead Noble Knight House. To reclaim that which was lost, not out of duty, not out of honor, but because you are lonely. To have others on the same level as you, whom you can connect with and who can connect with you. Yet till now, you always pushed everyone away, and everyone wasn't good enough. But really, you had been as scared as a child from my hive world sent to beg for food. When even was the last time you even visited your knight suit?"

Mara found herself speechless. She didn't expect such insight, or at least harsh words, from Remora of all people. Mara knew that she was lonely, but that was before she met Argus and Laeria. She had already recognized wat had driven her to become so close to them… but to say that she didn't care about her Knightly house. That… that wasn't true. She still remembered her responsibility full and well. As for her knight… well…

"I… It's been a while. And… even if what you say is true, I still want to rebuild my Knightly House. It's my responsibility as the last member of…"

Remora sat upright as she looked at her friend. She slammed her hands onto the desk to grab her attention and gave her the most serious look she had probably ever given her.

"Mara. Ask yourself truly if it is your own choice or not. You do not need to justify your desire for companionship, and you do not need to fulfill some task nobody asked you to fulfill. If you want a family, have one. I've seen how you've changed lately, and when that girl held your hand… you got a fire in your eyes I hadn't seen in you. You are in the rare position to have even a sliver of a happy life, Mara, something that very few people in this Imperium have the opportunity to attain. Do. Not. Waste. It."

Mara stayed silent as she thought about it. Remora only gave a soft smile as she leaned onto the chair. She was glad that she finally managed to get through that stubborn shell that Mara always put up. While she was from a hive world, she wasn't easy to fool and she knew a thing or two. She found the opportunity to have a great, exciting, and at times even pleasantly quiet life, away from that hellhole. Few were ever that lucky. Her friend Mara, the 'noble', looked down on her because of her standing, or at least one point did. But she knew that given enough time Mara would realize the breadth of the world. Such always happened when one saw enough of the universe to sort through the perceptions forced on them. With serious talk out of the way, she could resume to her favorite entertainment.

"I bet you haven't even let anyone see you undressed have you?"

Mara was caught off guard yet again by the question.

"W-What kind of a question is that? How quickly you change topics…"

Remora leaned forward as she looked at Mara.

"Well?"

Mara pressed back as she looked at her. She seemed so damn content when she teased her.

"I-It's not like… yes. Argus has seen me undressed several times when I dress in the morning and prepare for the day."

Remora was the one to be surprised this time, though she had hoped for a much meatier answer. That Mara seemed to be so wistfully naïve of what she just said made it easy to press further.

"Ah, well, how sweetly naïve of you. And I assume that this Argus, is the guardsman you have with you in your room? What do you think of him?"

Maras face flushed red as she found herself uncharacteristically embarrassed, realizing what she had said. That and how she let Argus' name slip, and the little burning sensation in her chest seemed to make her temperature rise as she struggled to come up with a reply. Argus was a good man, one whom she respected a great deal. And…

"W-Well… er… he's a good man."

Remora was giddy with how much she managed to get Mara to lower her defenses. She really must have had feelings for the two companions of hers. And perhaps she could convince her to enjoy herself for once.

"Listen, if you really are determined to continue House valor, you will need others of noble blood won't you? And seeing how you only have one current member in that adopted daughter of yours, that's not a lot. If you want to have children, I'd say it would be a good excuse won't you? Besides, if you really care for this Argus as much as you say, I think it would be a good pairing."

Mara paused as she thought of it. Truth be told, Remora wasn't wrong. In fact… she couldn't help but feel embarrassed as she thought of it. Remora seemed to be more help than she ever imagined she would be.

"I will take what you have told me into consideration. T-Thank you, Remora. For the advice."

Remoras jaw nearly dropped open. Did Mara just…

"W-Well, I'm er… glad to have… I'm glad I could get through that thick head of yours."

From behind them the door opened as Roland stepped inside. He hadn't expected company for a while, but Mara wasn't someone he had assumed would. At least, not without a good reason, and so he absolutely had to ask about it.

"Well, what have I missed?"

Mara recomposed herself as she sat straight and cleared her throat.

"Ah, Roland. I came here to request a room aboard the station for me and my companions. Preferably away from the rest of the crew and the guardsmen."

Roland only walked past her and behind his desk with Remora. He sat down on the chair as she preferred to rest on his lap. Though, for as amusing as it was, Roland was completely serious as he looked at Mara.

"You could have easily done that yourself, without seeking consent from me first. You after all, still hold high rank within my ship. What did you really come here for?"

Mara sighed beneath her breath. She had assumed that Roland would catch on that something was remiss. Either way, she had a few questions that needed answering. That and a threat to take care of, knowing that Aloi knew her secret.

"Firstly. Aloi, I want him under surveillance and away from me, and my companions."

Roland just knew that the fight between them would end up in a situation like this. Then again, the two of them had fought much more fiercely before and never gone to him to settle it. Then again, Mara didn't have companions to worry about. Still, Aloi had also acted very strangely, even if he was an Eldar whose ways differed greatly from humans.

"I can do that. Though, I assume this is connected to that fight you both had. Mind explaining that?"

Mara shook her head.

"Afraid I cannot. Just keep an eye on him please, and keep him on a tight leash."

Roland rubbed his chin as he leaned back into his chair. Remora wiggled in his lap as she held onto his arm and rubbed her chest ever so slightly on him. Though he managed to ignore it, for now, and continued with his serious demeanor. After all, he had to act like captain sometimes.

"Very well, I'll hold off the questions. Though, I am sure you know how… suspicious this all seems. Not that you, as noble as you are, would do anything to warrant such, would you?"

Mara narrowed her eyes and stared into Roland's eyes. When he wanted to, he revealed his capability as a captain in the cool seriousness he could compose himself with. It frustrated her slightly as she failed to accurately figure what he would say based on his body posture or his demeanor. Though that Remora so blatantly flirted with her body on his made it more difficult to discern anything.

"No. Nothing like that. Though I am curious just why we are staying here, in this station. While I do not protest it, you have to admit that it certainly is strange. Especially for you, someone who usually has a hard time conforming to superiors orders. I would have assumed you would have already decided to leave this sector, and continue on your travels. Instead, you move here, to the middle of the station and away from your own ship, which you care so much for."

Roland took a deep breath. Mara as a noble of Imperial Knight House, House Valor, was a vital part to his grand scheme. That she grew so quickly suspicious of his actions showed him that his decision wasn't unnoticed among his crew. It was nothing like the norm after all, though he at least had the excuse that it was orders for the most part. Mara however was one who could guess or perhaps even understand the intricate moves he made for his plans.

"How perceptive. Truth is, Mara, I am awaiting someone incredibly important. An old, er, associate of mine from the Faceless Legion. A variant of Imperial Guard local to the frontier. They will arrive in at least, I dunno, a month or so. We scheduled for exactly 30 days from now anyway. Perhaps we'll make good to that, depending on how lenient the Warp chooses to be with me. Either way, I have something currently in the works. If all goes well, I am sure you can benefit extremely well of it too."

Mara's interest was piqued, though it was too early to determine if it was in a positive or negative way yet. After all, Roland was still a rogue trader, and she knew he didn't imply deals or hints of reward unless he had something to gain from it.

"Is that so? What exactly does this benefit entail?"

Roland shook his head.

"Tisk, Tisk. Got to be patient. But I promise, it's not in a harmful way in the slightest. A very important, old friend of mine is coming and he has a lot of sway here in the frontier. Particularly, a relatively distant sector away from the iron grip of the Imperium and away from the mass warfare at its center. When the time comes, if you are determined to rebuild your House, I am sure, that he would be more than willing to make a deal with you as well."

This was more than Mara could have hoped for. Though she in fairness, wasn't entirely keen on the prospect of one of Roland's old friends. Regardless, it was enough to give her and the others a goal to look forward too. By then, hopefully she would have trained Laeria enough to have become a proper prospect for a Knight of her own, or at least to pass off as a noble. That and…

"Very well. That sounds very interesting. I will dwell on it, but, be sure to keep well on your promise. That way, neither of us have to disclose what we intend to do, and we can both go about our business as normal. Now, if you excuse me, I have better return to my companions and prepare for our move."

She stood from the chair and began to walk out, but stopped as she hoped to make one thing clear.

"Oh, and, please, do not forget what I have told you about Aloi. Keep him out of sight and on the ship. Least the Guardsmen discover the presence of a Xeno aboard the ship."

Roland smirked. These little power games between smart players always amused him.

"I'll be sure to it. Thank you, for dropping by."

As soon as Mara was out the door he let out a deep sigh as he looked at Remora.

"Did you really have to be all over me?"

She kissed him on his cheek.

"Oh? Do I hear some disappointment? I suppose I was a bad girl. But, it's your fault. You left before I got my fill last time."

Roland only sighed.

"You are insatiable."

Remora laughed.

"No, I am determined."

Outside, Mara made her way back to get her two companions. She sped along as fast as she could, as she hoped to get there and then move into their new room as soon as possible. Along the way, her mind filled with thoughts about what Remora had told her. Whether she was actually willing and ready to fulfill her desire to rebuild House Valor. While she had always told herself that she was, for some reason as she thought on it now, she wasn't so sure. It was her family legacy, but for the longest time she merely moped about it and did nothing to change her circumstances. Remora was right, when she had called her out for not visiting her Knight for so long. Truthfully, it wasn't until she met Argus and Laeria that she had any sense of purpose anymore.

Still, she could feel the pressure of her ancestors weigh on her shoulders as she thought of it. It would have been nothing less than a tragedy to allow such a strong and valiant household as House Valor to disappear. She couldn't just let that happen. She didn't have to hold off on having a family however. The two of them could go hand in hand, and doing so would easily allow her a position that would benefit her Laeria and Argus. Though, what Remora had mentioned about children stuck in her mind. That while Laeria, even if she was seen as her adopted daughter, was not of royal blood. While Mara didn't care about such a distinction, she knew that if she allowed her to inherit her title, she would be looked at with scrutiny and beneath the gaze of others. It would only invite someone to investigate into her and increase the chances that she would be discovered. If she had children however… they would become the inheritors, and as born of her blood, would be much more easily accepted. While she did not wish to remove the chance for Laeria to surpass her, she knew the risks involved. Such was always present, but, in Laeria's case, the consequences would be far, far direr.

Mara stopped along the hallway that led to the ship. She looked at the bristling activity as the crew mingled with the guardsman. Something that she tended to forget was that the majority of Roland's crew was made up entirely from female recruits. Something she imagined, was an Emperor-send for the guard stationed here. Thankfully, given Roland's usual strict and rigid rules, only the consensual sort of relationships would occur. Well, unless the offending party desired to be mutilated in front of the others and then cast out into space to suffocate, something that she had woefully witnessed occur do to the actions of several of the female crew in the past. Regardless, as she watched one couple, the woman with her hand on a guardsman's shoulder as she spoke sweet nothings to him, his hand around her waist as he clearly moved them down… she realized how much a different world it to her. As a noble of house Valor, she had always expected her partner would be given to her, betrothed as a connection between families. As much a duty or a responsibility as anything else. Since she learned that her home world was destroyed however, she did not give it much thought, having supposed it would never be relevant again. Though, that was until now.

None of the crew, and especially none of the guardsman had ever enticed her. Even the many, many self-toted nobles and important figures of the worlds she visited as a member of Rolands crew made her care in the slightest. Only those who had a valiant disposition and were good, deserved to be a part of her family line. Something that was far rarer than she expected it to be. It wasn't until she met Argus that… an actual and honest candidate appeared before her, even if she didn't think of him as such till now. He was a good man, perhaps overly kind, but one whom was determined and strong. He had the perfect traits to pass down to any children… though as she really thought about it, she found herself as embarrassed as Remora often made her.

She didn't want to stand around any longer and continued forward. However the thought did not leave her. Ultimately, she came to the realization that the only person she would have children with would be Argus. Though how to propose such a thing was beyond her, and it disturbed her heart as she thought of it. It wasn't in a bad way though, which both surprised and unnerved her. It was more like there was an odd tension that pulled at it, and reminded her of the nervous girl who donned her holy armor for the first time.

She almost didn't realize that she had arrived at her door. She tapped the side of her cheek with her fist as she chastised herself for her lack of awareness. She looked about the hallway, left and then right. Aloi was not to be seen, however she couldn't trust it. The sooner she got Argus and Laeria to a new location, outside the ship, the better. She would reconcile her thoughts later, in private and hopefully with a fruitful outcome.

She knocked on the door as it opened, Argus in the doorway as he held onto his lasgun. He was relieved to see Mara as he set it down.

"Glad to see you back. Truthfully, began to get a little worried there."

Mara couldn't bring herself to speak at first, her thoughts still jumbled. She pushed past them and calmed herself down. The current task at hand first, and anything else can be settled later.

"It's been approved, and hopefully Aloi will be less of a problem though it is only a momentary stall. However, there is good news and bad news as well. We'll discuss that later however, when we are in a better location. And, er, thanks for the concern."

Argus was glad, a weight lifting from his shoulders as he heard that. Not that he worried what bad news could have meant, but that was for later. Mara looked past his shoulder and over at Laeria who laid on the bed.

"Has everything been well?"

Argus nodded.

"Yes. Laeria is asleep at the moment. She got tired out from the exercise routine you left for us. Though, I imagine we should be going soon. The thought of that other Eldar being here unnerves me, and it's hard to shake the paranoia that he is always nearby."

Mara nodded, recalling her brief 'talk' with Aloi earlier. The faster they left, the better.

"Yes. You can carry her and I'll lead you to our new room. It'll have to be in the crew dormitory sector of the station to accommodate for our needs, so it will be a fair distance away from here. But, we should be alone and out of the way. Almost all of the Rogue Traders crew has taken residence close to the ship, and the Guardsmen have the garrison."

Argus nodded as he looked back at the contently sleeping Laeria. The further away from anyone else the better.

"Alright. At least she won't have to worry about others being around her. Her last trip outside among others didn't do well for her health. Though, I know she is going to have to readjust to having others around… but, I hope she can find some peace for now."

Mara smiled as she looked at him. Always with that compassionate look on his face.

"You really are a kind man, Argus. I really admire that about you."

Argus shook his head.

"I'm glad you see me that way. But, you've gotten us further than I think I ever could have alone. I am truly glad you came into our lives. If anyone deserves to be admired, it's you. After all, you have a lot more to lose. Thank you."

The two of them awkwardly looked at one another as they found their faces flush for just a second, before they returned to the task at hand.

"Ok, let's go."

From the shadows, Aloi had already learned of their plans and their intentions. He had become an assassin beyond what most humans could ever hope to achieve, and he had a knack for staying silent. He had managed to eavesdrop on the conversation between Mara and the Roland. Aloi had at first, simply intended upon simply killing her and the Eldar girl, but while he stalked Mara through the ship… he felt something. Something that made his blood boil. However, it all fell into place as he realized what he would do. As it turned out, there were still other Eldar aboard the station, few, but still alive. They had likely managed to survive the initial cleansing brought by the Guardsmen and now stayed hidden like rats in the walls. Likely, they had only avoided his detection because of his focus on the girl and his heavy use of suppressants. His first instinct was to kill them himself, knowing they were from his former, now destroyed, Craftworld. They had to die in order for his revenge to be complete. However, such would have been risky and would not have allowed him to concoct something far more insidious. Truly his time with the Dark Eldar had its effect on him, but he didn't seem to mind it anymore. At least he would no longer lie about his nature, for the Eldar he was no longer existed.

He slinked through the tight vents of the station as he squeezed his body along its dusty, uncleaned shafts. He did not know how long it had taken him, but he eventually found himself in a sector far, far away at the opposite end from where the ship was docked. Guided only by the faint presence of the Eldar as it grew stronger the nearer he became.

Eventually, the lights barely functioned as they flickered on and off. When the feeling was at its strongest, he forced the nearest vent open as it shot out and slammed onto the ground below. He sleekly lowered himself from the ceiling and landed onto the ground with a thud. Inside a long, darkened hallway, scarred with scenes from a battle long since over. He knew immediately that he wasn't alone, the feeling unmistakable. He walked without guard and without care down the corridor as he looked about. He waited for them to make their move, but they did not for a long time. Surely they weren't from the path of the warrior then, and that they did not approach him suggested they didn't know he was Eldar either. Though that had to mean... hmmm.

"You are free to come out. I am Eldar after all."

He stood and waited. While none appeared at first, and only silence replied him, he knew it was only a matter of time. After all, he could wait. He had already waited for so long. After a small while of silence, he finally got a hook.

"Who are you and why were you with those filthy Monkeigh?"

Aloi smirked.

"Haven't you ever heard of mercenary work? I do what I must to make a living. I am one who took the path of a ranger. The confines of a Craftworld never really suited me."

From the shadows he heard the murmurs of discussion. Ha! If they were to make an enemy of him, perhaps he would just kill them all and be done with it. Yet, he knew they didn't have the nerve to attack him.

From the shadows six Eldar stepped out, all of them mere younglings who likely hadn't even finished their first path yet. Young, impressionable, and most of all, old enough to be useful. Yes. Aloi quickly discerned the oldest of the group, a male who stood in the middle of the others. The loo of his height, his tempered mind and the dusty air of calmness about him made it clear. Likely he was the one most filled with the Eldars lies of greatness and expectations. He had a scowl on his face that was a laughable attempt at intimidation, clearly never having done anything like this before. He seemed so angry, not that he knew anger like Aloi did. The Eldest merely pointed at him with a crude knife and squeaked.

"You traitor! How could you just go with the humans? They-"

Aloi narrowed his eyes as he pointed a finger back at the young Eldar.

"So you wish to assume things of me? Do not disrespect your elders, or have you already forgotten that? Do you truly believe such foolishly naïve notions as that? And do not think I am any less for my choices, I am still an Eldar. This is my path, the path of the wanderer. And I do it well. But you all have no path, you are all merely survivors stuck in the realm of humans who will kill you like the rats you are."

Another one of the group shook her head as she lowered the woefully makeshift spear she held in her hand.

"We have survived this long. We may be young but-"

Aloi chuckled as he tilted his head to give a glance at her.

"Look at yourselves. Do you still believe Eldar so great now that you are forced to live like rats? You have only survived this long because the humans have not done a secondary cleanse of this station. Something they will do very soon, and I do not see any aspect warriors before me. I see none with the spirit or the resolve to even put themselves in any real danger. You merely persist enough to continue this pathetic existence and justify it. That you are all alive while the others fought and died only proves that fact. While I have taken my path diligently, and without fear nor remorse… You are all cowards."

The entire group remained silent, and Aloi knew he had hit them where it hurt; directly into their pride. While he would not kill them, at least not now, he would have his fun. There was so much pent up anger and frustration he simply needed to express.

"Your craftworld was destroyed wasn't it? You and many others had come here and for some reason or another were discovered and attacked by the monkeigh? Right?"

The eldest of the group spoke again, though he seemed much meeker now.

"Y-yes. I'm sure you've heard from the humans you have associated yourself with."

Aloi rolled his eyes. So caught up on pointless details!

"You simply cannot let your pride be hurt can you? Do you think that trying to win an argument with me will change anything? Make you any less of a weak, cowardly, excuse for an Eldar who did not fight and die beside your fellow Eldar here? Beside true aspect warriors?"

Another of the group spoke to attempt to defend their situation.

"We did not back away! We fought the monkeigh beside the others… we fought right by their sides. Even as we began to lose, and as the few aspect warriors with us died, we…"

Aloi walked up to them and shoved them hard in their chest with his palm.

"Yet here you are. Living like rats, ever beneath the boot of the monkeigh you so quickly look down upon. Do you always underestimate your enemies? Or did you realize that you were over your head and overestimated your own ability the minute you began fighting the monkeigh? When true warriors died beside you? Is that what made you run away? Scurry as you did, like the rats you are?"

The female from before seemed to have enough as she stomped the ground in a childish fit of anger with her spear. Truly they were nothing more than proud, foolish, naïve little children.

"We are not rats! We are proud Eldar! We…"

Aloi turned to her and grabbed her by the human shirt she wore and pulled her close to him.

"Yet you dare wear human clothing, you survive wielding crudely made tools, and live off the second picking left by the monkeigh, don't you? How pathetic. Your craftworld would be disappointed."

The younglings were at a loss, as they felt themselves bottle inside as all Eldar did. Few could suffer such a thrashing to their pride, and so most Eldar would retreat to the only place they could convince themselves of their greatness. To justify their pride, their actions, their circumstances, within their heart and their mind. It made Aloi sick, angry and disgusted all at once. It reminded him all too much of his former self, who was cast out and every day tried to justify the reality that was pressed upon him. These young Eldar all disgusted him. Still, they were the perfect little pawns. Yes. If he was to truly get the revenge he so desired, the fulfillment of his path, all he needed to do was give them enough hope to believe again as he had once, and then dash it away. Before he could speak up however, one of the young Eldar managed to open their mouth.

"We didn't run away. We were asked by one of the Aspect warriors to escape and… and to… find the Chosen. To keep her safe. But… I… we have not succeeded. You are right. We are pathetic."

Aloi was frozen in place as he heard those words. Chosen? What did he mean by chosen? It couldn't have been… could it? He pulled the one who spoke away from where he stood and lifted him into the air as he stared into his eyes, his very soul. He would not be lied to!

"What did you just say?"

The young Eldar was distressed as he grabbed at Alois hands and tried feebly to push away. Aloi would not let go however, until an answer was given. He queezed ever tighter, so close to crushing delicate bones. Even as the others became skittish and wanted to step in, he knew they couldn't stand up to him. Unless they explained exactly what he meant by chosen, he would kill them all.

"Who is this chosen you are talking about?"

The oldest stepped in yet again to act like the calm presence he was groomed to be.

"Please let him go. The Chosen is a young Eldar girl who was taken in by our craftworlds Farseer council. She was supposed to lead the Eldar of our craftworld into prosperity…"

It all clicked at once as Aloi realized whom the young Eldar girl that Mara had taken in was. It was her. The one whom replaced him, whose very existence led to his exile and to his misery. The one whom he was told he would attempt to kill, and for which future crime he was punished. He could not help but begin laughing as he dropped the young Eldar onto the ground and looked at the flickering light on the ceiling. This universe was truly cruel! Ha! But if this is what it wanted of him, who was he to disagree? If this is what the Farseers had expected of him, how could he deny their request? They only helped ensure this eventuality, and it seemed that the universe about him only agreed. It brought him here for a reason, and he knew it well.

He covered his face as he continued laughing, trying to tame his rampant emotions. As he had become accustomed he reached into his pack and grabbed one of his spare suppressants. He slammed it into his mouth and swallowed despite the pain he felt as it slid down. His laughing slowed as he leaned forward, and took several deep breaths. The young Eldar around him were already weary of him, but this outburst made them fearful. Fearful as they should have been. But, unless he wanted to kill them all here and now, he needed to regain his composure.

"I apologize. Yes, how this universe seems to work in wondrous ways. I know of who you speak. Yes. I apologize for my, harsh, criticisms. But it is only right of your elder to give you a dose of reality, and to reprimand you for you mal-doings. However. I have an opportunity for all of you. Yes, within around 30 human day cycles, an Eldar ship will come here with a healthy host of reinforcements. I already made the preparations to rescue all who survived the slaughter here, for we Eldar must remain true to our kind. That is why I am here, to act as my craftworlds eyes and ears. To find and save the 'Chosen'. And more so, I know where your chosen is. She is currently within the custody of the humans."

Immediately all of the youngling's interests were peaked. Their fear superseded by a sense of duty. The eldest especially as he suddenly grew something resembling determination and spoke out of turn.

"If you know where she is, we must go save her. Immediately! Who knows what the monkeigh would have already done to her…"

Aloi waved a finger at him to quiet his rude attitude.

"Be patient. I have made sure that she is safe. Don't you worry, young one. However, in your current state you would all be killed within minutes. No, we will wait for the thirty cycles to come and pass."

The female Eldar, who quickly Aloi learned was the most akin to an aspect warrior, stepped up to him. She truly was a frustrating presence, but, most who desired the path of the warrior were. She at least had the capacity to stand up to him as she placed a hand on his chest in attempt to shove him, though she could not do so.

"You expect us to do nothing? If you wish reprimand us, at least allow us a chance to redeem ourselves!"

Aloi slapped her hand off of him as he took a deep breath. How gullible these young Eldar were. Well, they had no other elders to look up to, beside their barely older self-imposed leader. Might as well take it as far as he could.

"You did not let me finish. Do not speak out of turn again. But, I understand your frustration. You will be given the perfect chance for redemption. When the ship arrives, it will be up to us to find and secure the 'chosen'. To this end, I will train you all until then."

The animosity that the group held for him faded away as they fell for his ploy. They truly were Eldar from his craftworld, so quick to listen to authority and their elders. So easily toyed with and used, molded by their loyalty to Eldar kind. While he found such propaganda and lies distasteful, they would serve him well here. The female Eldar seemed especially enamored by his proposal as she straightened herself and looked at him the proper respect.

"W-Well, thank you. We will not disappoint you. We promise, er…"

Aloi smirked, knowing that his plan would not fail.

"You may call me, Aloi."

As they all fell beneath his will, Aloi could only think about what was to come. In thirty cycles, he would lead these young Eldar to find the 'chosen'. That meek, pathetic little Eldar girl whom Mara had so fondly taken in. Then, he would kill her, and her new guardians, and then he would lead the young Eldar to fight the humans. With the promise that they would be getting reinforcements, that more Eldar would come to save them. He would train them well enough so that most would survive until the Imperial Guard of the Faceless Legion arrived, and when they did, relish in these younglings dashed hopes as they realize no help would come for them. Relish in their realization of betrayal, as they are hopelessly found and killed by the monkeigh they so looked down on. He only needed survive long enough to watch the last one die, and then, he did not care if he himself went next. As long as all the eldar of his craftworld faded into oblivion, that was all that mattered. Through the determined and willing faces of these young, foolish, and impressionable Eldar, would he finally bring the suffering he had endured to the last of his Craftworld and finish his desire. And so the timer was set.

Far from him and his sinister plans, other plans were made. Though these, were far from sinister and were filled with a hope for the future to come. Argus, Mara and Laeria finally arrived to the crew dormitory, nearly centered in the stations construction. It was a large room, made up of dozens of rooms which spiraled along four floors of walkways. They entered in on the ground level, and found the entire place devoid of much anything that wasn't built into the station itself. Only a long decommissioned cleaning servitor lifeless as it laid limp against the side of a raised barricade. The sector led into through four main hallways that spread out into the different sectors of the ship. The first thing that Mara did when they arrived was to ensure that the three that they had not explored were shut and locked down. While she did this, Argus and Laeria looked through the many rooms of the station, and found that many were fairly bare. However, the further up they went, they discovered that there were many families aboard the ship once. Something that left a cold and bitter taste in their mouths as both thought back to what they had seen. Laeria briefly recalled the pile of bodies created by her fellow Eldar, however she shook it away. There was no use in letting the past poison her present, no matter how much it hurt. And hurt it did, as they found several rooms on the third floor which had family pictures on still open monitors and mementos from past inhabitants. They left these undisturbed, as the last remnants they were, and eventually found a room which was empty. It was the second to last room on the right side of the room, third floor. It was identical to all the other rooms, split into three smaller rooms. A single, very small restroom, an equally small room with a bed that spread its length, and a lounging area that only had a single table and four hard metal chairs. It was simple, and without much that Mara was used to, but it would suit their needs fine.

Mara did come to miss some of the commodities that her old room provided, though, it was only a minor itch. It was not something that was worth dragging all the way here, though a softer bed would have been preferable. The water supplied through the station adequate, though she insisted upon purifying it further. Still, she had her two companions for company and that made it all worth it. Laeria had room to move, and pretty soon, to train as well. The three of them set about securing their new living space, separating their few possession's as they sat around the table to rest. As they did, they spoke about many things. Though most revolved around Mara's past, her memories of House Valor and her father. Laeria would become a noble of her household after all, and she truly did see her as an adopted… adopted daughter. It was only right she learned of her newfound heritage. And Argus was always interested to listen to the history of others, to her stories and reminisces. Especially now, a small distraction from the uncertainties of the present.

Though Mara had thoughts which nagged at her mind as she spoke with them, brought on by her discussion with Remora. Such persisted until enough time had passed that Laeria was sent to bed. The next day cycle, she would begin her training and conditioning for her future. Argus would be great help with her progress, and with hope, by the time that Roland's associates arrived she would be a fully-fledged noble able to keep herself calm under stress and her emotions contained.

However, she found that she didn't expect the sleeping arrangements to be quite so tight. The bed barely had enough room for Laeria and herself. Argus already said he would sleep on the ground in the living area, as he was accustomed to such conditions, but Mara didn't have any of it. She and him dragged a bed from the nearby room and pulled it into the living area of theirs for him to sleep on. He had slept on the ground for too long.

With that done, she stepped outside the room and leaned against the railing beside the doorway. She looked down at the center of the sector, at the ghost of what once would have housed many people. It was eerie, and saddening to think on. Argus and Laeria told her that all of the stations former crew were killed, every last one. But such was the past, one they could not have prevented. Argus not being able to sleep walked out and stood beside her as he grabbed onto the railing.

"Eventful day, wasn't it?"

Mara nodded.

"Yes it was. However… I feel good about it."

She had to discuss with him what had been on her mind. There would be little time for it otherwise.

"You know Argus… you are a good man. Better than many others I have met. And trust me, I have met a lot."

Argus shook his head as he crossed his arms, leaning onto the railing beside her.

"You give me too much credit. I am just a normal human in this crazy universe. A draftee of the Imperial Guard like billions of others…"

Mara chuckled at his remark. Normal was not the word she would use…

"I don't think many humans would risk their lives to save an Eldar girl and raise her like his own child. That is… well its treason. But, it's very valiant of you. You are someone who is willing to make your own path or die trying. That is something worthy of respect."

Argus sighed, though he grew a small smile.

"I'm glad you think so. You are a good person too, Mara. Even if… well, first impressions I thought you were going to kill me. But… you've proven to be a good mother to Laeria. Er…"

He shied away as he realized the term he used. Mara however, didn't deny it. She couldn't, not to herself and not to him. Truly, Laeria had become so important to her.

"It's fine. To think that the both of us managed to become an Eldar girls parental figures. Her guardians. We are both traitorous scum, but I know neither of us regrets it. It is so strange but… I am glad that we did. I have had so much to think about all this time. She gave me a purpose I didn't know I was missing."

Argus returned to his place beside her as he nodded in agreement.

"Without her… I probably wouldn't be here. I would have wasted away a long time ago. Or died in some conflict…"

Mara took a deep breath as she held a hand over her breast. Why was this so hard to bring up?

"Well… Argus. Listen. Laeria is going to become a member of House Valor. And so…"

Argus became glum as he waited for this to happen. Though, he would not stand in the way.

"I know. I am just a guardsman. Even if I… If I have to let Laeria go for her sake, I will do it. I know you are fully capable of watching over her… far more than I am as a lowly guardsman. No matter how hard it is for me to accept that…"

Maras's eyes opened widely as she turned to look at him. She shoved him on his shoulder to fully get her point across as she held onto him.

"You idiot! I would never do that to you or her! You mean too much to her for me to just…"

Argus was surprised by her reaction, having expected this to go entirely different.

"I… I apologize. I just…"

Mara sighed and let him go.

"Listen, Argus. I've gotten to know you, and I… I have come to see you as someone very close and dear to me. I would never ask you to leave. Guardsman or not, you are worth a hell of a lot more than that."

Argus was speechless as he tried to think of something to say. He hadn't been so flustered in a long time. Really, he didn't know what she saw in him. But… he was glad.

"Thank you, Mara. You've been very good to me and to Laeria."

Mara smiled in turn as she looked at the man in front of her, in his honest demeanor as always. He always thought of him and Laeria. However, she wondered if he had ever thought about himself.

"Don't you want to be happy, Argus? I know that Laeria means a lot to you, but… isn't there anything more? Not that I am suggesting anything over Laeria, but, you deserve to make decisions for yourself as well."

Argus rubbed the side of his head as he thought, looking down to the bottom floor.

"I don't know. I just want to be there for Laeria and help her grow. To give her the chance for a life that was taken away from me."

Mara could only imagine how it would feel to be drafted by the Imperial Guard. An important and noble duty certainly, but one that rarely cared for the lives it grinded. Not something she had given thought to before she began to know him. Still…

"You can still live for yourself and be there for Laeria, Argus."

Argus nodded.

"I know… but… I don't have anything else."

The both of them stayed silent as they leaned on the railing. By now, their shoulders touched as they leaned into each other. They simply enjoyed the others company. Yet, Mara could not just put off this discussion any longer. If she was going to say it, she had to out and say it.

"Argus… if I am going to restart my Noble House, House Valor, I… well…"

She found herself become embarrassed, a sudden meekness in her voice that she tried to clear out with a cough. Though she could not hide the flushness in her cheeks as they heated up. Argus looked at her uncertain what she was going to say, with a curious stare.

"Well?"

Mara swallowed a breath and cleared her throat as she looked straight ahead.

"It is going to need children of noble blood, and Laeria will be under less suspicion if she isn't next in line for succession. So, what I am saying is, will you have children with me?"

Argus was not ready for that as he found himself burn up and turned red by such a sudden proposal. He was at a complete loss from words and didn't even know how to respond.

"Wait…"

Mara closed her eyes as she turned to face him.

"I am not experienced with these courting rituals, but, there is no one else I've seen fit to help me with this. And if you do, you'd be my closest regent and you wouldn't just be a guardsman anymore, and you would have a good reason to stay around Laeria. I very highly respect you, Argus. And so I ask again. Will you have children with me?"

Argus swallowed as he held tightly onto the railing.

"I… I don't have much experience with this either… I never thought about it much even before I was drafted. I don't know if I am good enough for you. I…"

Maras's emotions got the better of her as she grabbed Argus by his shoulder and pulled him close as she kissed him on the mouth. It was very brief, and a first for the both of them, as they felt emotions neither had in a very long time. They both paused as she let go, only looking into the others eyes as they stood there. Mara couldn't hold back anymore.

"You are good enough to me, Argus. You took my first kiss, so take responsibility. Ok?"

Argus closed his eyes, took a deep breath and calmed down. As he opened them, he looked into Mara's face as she stared at him. Her eyes were so vibrant and she was so distant from the person she had first met. She really was a beautiful woman, determined and even kind. She was the only other friend he could say he had, and she was a good one at that. He cared about her that was certain. She was so good to Laeria, and he had worried for so long that… she might take her from him. But, he saw that wasn't the case. She really meant a lot to him, whether he realized it or not.

"I guess I can't refuse. Ok, Mara. I will. I promise."

Mara found herself much happier and excited than she had expected she would feel. Though it didn't bother her as she composed herself, and cleared her throat. She looked back into their room, at the matrass laying on the ground in its center. The rough sheets tossed over its width. Then she thought of Laeria just in the next room.

"I'm glad. T-Though we can wait to… er… you know, until after we find a place to settle. When we get off this station. But… this really does make me happy, Argus."

Argus nodded.

"You know… it makes me happy too."

The two of them shared a tender moment as they looked at one another, before they returned inside and went to bed. Argus and Mara side by side as they slept on the crude, rigid bed beside one another. The door locked, and Laeria smiling as she was glad that her two guardians had found something more in each other and would truly be her guardians and parents as time went on. And so, the timer had begun.


	27. A Guardsman's Purpose (Side Story Pt5)

A Guardsman's Purpose Part 5

Every day since they settled into their new room, Mara would wake Argus and Laeria early. The day cycle was filled with rigorous physical training to get Laerias physical health improved. Her prior life of living within the confines of a small room had only served to make her body frail, and the food she ate was not enough to sustain her growing body. While these were the result of circumstance, they had to be fixed if she was to gain a better grasp on herself and become a noble of House Valor. Argus also helped her through the training, taking the opportunity to help better himself as well. One of the most rigorous routines being a run up and down the walkways of the dormitories. Though he was sure to stay right beside her and give her encouragement not to give up. That and he wanted to be there in case she over-exhausted herself. Something she nearly did for the first few days.

Laeria had a difficult time, and she often found herself so exhausted that she didn't want to move afterwards. She would sweat profusely and it felt like her body boiled inside, but she had to push on. She was only glad she trained in the tight garments Mara had procured for her, a spare uniform from the crew that she had found to fit her. She took solace that Argus too found the regiment hard, even despite his experience with physical strain from his own training. Thankfully Mara allowed her time to rest and regain her strength periodically, with encouragement and critique to follow.

Argus would leave at the same time every day to get food and water and return, where they would then share a meal together in their room and talk. The food much more nutritious and healthy than what Laeria or him had before, and even better had much more taste. Both a reward and a necessary step for her health, Laeria was grateful to simply have something that wasn't bland or near stale bread. Argus too was amazed that Mara had managed to secure such good meals. Mara took pride in that, and was happy to see the two of them eat so eagerly. It was simply nice to eat with others around, and for Mara that was worth more than the food itself which she had always had at her beck and call. She didn't want to waste a moment however, and so while they talked, included important lessons for Laeria about House Valors history, its values and the code that all needed to know.

Laeria was amazed to learn that House Valor was focused heavily on the care and protection of those within its reign, and was enamored by the many stories of past Knights that Mara told her. Whether exaggerated or not, which Mara highly disputed, they gave her imagination a sense of wonder. Though as they got closer to the subject of the Imperial Knights, the suits of armor which all in House Valor donned, Mara found she struggled to properly explain it. While Argus and Laeria had understood the idea that they were mechanized suits of armor, they had difficulty grasping the finer points such as the bond between knight and its rider. Having never seen one themselves made it difficult to relate what awesome constructions and sheer presence they commanded. Either way, such was a hurdle that could be passed on for later. The most important lessons that Mara had to teach Laeria was the management and duties of being a noble of House Valor. Particularly how to present oneself, how to deal with others of stature, how to handle a territory and how to handle political relationships. How to handle oneself in the face of others an especially important one, as she knew Laeria would have to extra careful with what she said and how to deflect unwanted inquiry. This was a lot for her, even if she grasped many of the concepts well. She was still young, and though she actually out-aged Mara, by Eldar standards she still had a lot of development to go. However, she found that the lessons that the Farseers had pressed on her shared some similarities with Mara's lessons. Thankfully it gave her a basis to better understand and learn them.

These lessons not only for Laeria, as Argus also listened intently. Given his promise to Mara, he decided that he had to learn as much as he could to be of help to her. Argus however, found himself rather clueless on many topics, never having had to think so much on such things before. Still, he listened and did his best to understand. Though he hadn't learned as quickly or as much as as Laeria did, he still put as much effort as he could into it. Mara's descriptions of House Valor and the stories that it held, all sparked his imagination. Though he knew that everything had its dark side, and even House Valor likely wasn't perfect as such stories would imply. Not that it mattered, because the good and the bad, both things made it what it was. He wouldn't ignore either of those things, just as he would not with anything else. He enjoyed how passionately Mara told them about it, and was always glad to see how excited and lively she had been. For the sake of these two, he would better himself as much as he could to always stay by their side.

Mara on the other hand, while she told everything as diligently as she could, found she struggled slightly. It had been such a long time since she had thought of all these things. The lessons her father told her, that her mentors provided, and that House Valor instituted. She had moped around too long and thus struggled to recollect certain things, and so had to fill any gaps with her own experience and wisdom. That both Laeria and Argus listened to her so carefully and diligently made her heart beat with a tender happiness. Still, that only made her worry more that she would teach something improperly or not be able to convey what needed to be effectively. That her resources to teach such things was limited made it much harder, but she would not let that stop her. She did have to leave out several things though, which all of them knew, even if they didn't want to acknowledge it. The teachings on xenos was strictly left out and ignored, Mara having found a distaste in her mouth as she thought on them. Not that this changed the reality of the universe at large, or even her general perception of the Xenos races, but Mara found she struggled slightly to tell Laeria that as a noble of House Valor she had to focus on those under her care and no others. There were many very dangerous and easily provoked enemies scattered among the stars, and Mara knew that someday, Laeria could very well be faced with the reality of fighting other Eldar. Laeria knew this bothered Mara, but she had already made her decision and if that was an outcome, she would accept it. Something that Mara found both pride in, and a hint of tragedy.

As time went on, Laeria became less dependent on the few suppressants Mara held in stock, as she managed her emotions much clearer. As her body became more fit and able, her mind equally was strengthened without the stress of maintaining it. While she still hid the true extant of her abilities from Arus and Mara, she did explain that as she became stronger she was able to handle them much better. She held a firmer grasp on her mind, and as she focused most of her ability on suppressing them, she found herself capable of bearing it more easily. Though, she continued to worry about the future as she grew. Even now she could tell that unchecked… a connection to the warp was always a dangerous thing. But, if everything turned out as they hoped, she would have the time to deal with it later. Her biggest hurdle however, and both her guardians knew it, was that she would become incredibly anxious and paranoid around anyone who wasn't Argus or Mara. They couldn't easily help her train past this, as they didn't want to risk bringing others around her and being discovered. So Mara had Laeria meditate often before bed to calm herself in the hopes that she would be able to keep her emotions in check around others. It certainly helped Mara through all her years aboard the rogue trader's ship, and her many, many run in's with what she considered terrible company when visiting other worlds. It was similar to the meditation that the farseers would tell her to do, and so it felt somewhat natural to her. It at least made things manageable.

Everything went well and went without hindrance. The one weight which ever hung over them however, was one that all three of them held constantly at the back of their minds. Aloi was still out and about. While Roland took Mara's suggestion seriously, posting guards at the entrance of the ship and keeping tabs on Aloi's goings, she remained cautious and paranoid. Argus, every night after moving to their room, stood guard at the door with his lasgun. He watched in cycles with Mara as they knew that Aloi would strike eventually. Laeria didn't want to think about that terrible Eldar, but she could not help it. She knew full and well the danger he posed always loomed, and the feeling that she felt come off him that day… it still scared her. She trained hard to exhaust herself, focused entirely on her goal, with hopes that everything would settle down and that Aloi would never appear. She knew though, that such deep hatred and anger as he possessed wouldn't let that happen.

She was right, as Aloi would as covertly as possible, leave Roland's ship and leave a psychic illusion of himself behind. One of the few tricks he was still able to do despite his strained connection. He learned quickly where the 'chosen' Eldar girl and her two guardians took residence, at the center of the station. Every time he passed through the vents, he could only just barely prevent himself the urge to kill. Instead, kept himself going with an increasing excitement at the thought of his revenge and impatiently waited for the thirty day cycles to pass. To make it go quicker, he spent his time training the naïve Eldar younglings in the farthest reaches of the station. He instilled them with a sense of pride and fed their foolish heads with ideas that they would prevail. They made excellent progress as they managed to fire and operate the few working equipment that they had stashed away. Several shuriken catapults and the damaged suits of several Aspect Warriors armor. As he had assumed, the rest of the aspect warrior's equipment long since destroyed or hoarded somewhere by the humans. Either way, it didn't matter much to him. He only trained the younglings to the point that they were adequate and proved to have confidence in their abilities. They were strong, physically fit and would have just barely fit the requirements to join the path of their craftworlds Aspect Warriors. Particularly Valra, the female whom had the most fight of the group. Not that he was very soft in his training, as he was always sure to beat them when he got the chance while sparring. Given how in disrepair the armor they had was, and would have to depend entirely on their speed and their ability to hide. Perfect for assassinations or secret missions, but they were going to fight a force which was accustomed to grinding out their enemies with bodies till they wore out. Just the perfect end for these pompous younglings, to die off one at a time, unable to do anything to stem their demise.

He was sure to have fun the whole time. He even managed to genuinely smile, while he presented himself as the dead Eldar he once was. Yet he was no more than a betrayer in a corpse's skin, for his old self was long dead. While his 'students' as they liked to call themselves, seemed to look at him with adoration and respect, he held nothing but contempt. The only one whose name he actively recalled was Valra's, for she was the closest to his own abilities. Well, if she had many, many, many years to train under him. But such respect did not overpower his end goal. He was filled with a long pent up rage and an even worse desire to accomplish his lifelong journey of vengeance. To fulfill his path and then let it end.

Yet… much to his own discomfort, he had felt pity. No, no it was sadness for the first time in such a long time. As he spent more time with the young Eldar, mere survivors as he was, adrift and away from home as he was, he could not help but feel something akin to compassion for them. But he could not let such rogue thoughts persist. This path he was on was the fate that was bestowed to him by this cruel universe. He would not deny it, he could not. Whenever he felt some emotion for these young foolish Eldar, he reminded himself of the many years he spent tortured, abused and used by the likes of Dark Eldar. Such was the true nature of the Eldar. This façade… this lie that he gave these young Eldar, that he fed about the superiority of their race and their ability to overcome all opposition, it was all just a ruse. They were raised to castrate their emotions, to become compliant to the will of the farseers and their 'guidance', raised with the lie that the Eldar were somehow better than everything else. When in truth, they were perhaps even worse than most of it.

Aloi himself was living proof that such was only an act. He had once eagerly believed as these young Eldar did. He saw the reality the further away he drifted from the farseer's influence, and the more he was able to see the universe without a lens before his eyes. They deserved their fate, as he deserved his. The Farseers told him that he would kill their precious 'chosen' and so they cast him away as if he did not exist at all. No, as if he deserved such punishment, for a future not yet decided. Such pompous and clear authority had went straight to their heads, and he saw them no different than the many corrupt, power hungry humans he found among his travels. He would give them the future that they so eagerly hoped to avoid, caused by their own actions and arrogance. Their precious craftworld finished by him. He would not feel sorrow for these young Eldar, for it was better they die here. He had spent too long ruminating in this desire for revenge. He had already made his choice. He would give the universe what it wanted, and let the laughter of monstrous gods echo with his betrayal and his desire.

Still, as he looked at the young Eldar about him, those whom he had groomed and prepared for slaughter… he still felt something akin to remorse. Valra actively tried to become closer to him, determined to only spar him and asked unending questions. Perhaps she even wished to mate him. Though she adamantly held onto her crude spear, she actually managed to become good with it and gave him some entertainment. She of all of them made his heart waver the most. Yet it did not matter. He would not survive the coming fight, nor would she or the others. They deserved to discover the truth of this universe, this reality, just as he had. Only they would be lucky, for they would die soon after. Or perhaps not, lest the humans drag them away to their own tortures or destroy the soulstones they carried about their necks. Had they any spares, he knew they would have eagerly given one to him. Even without they would give up one of their own to give him one. But he would not ask, and he would refuse if presented the choice. He had not worn such a cursed instrument in such a long time. No. When he died, he would face the just punishment of all Eldar with dignity. After all, it was their true nature which caused this all to happen in the first place, and to that god would they return.

Like a blur, a period of thirty days passed, and miraculously, the Faceless Region arrived exactly on time. For most everyone on the station it was a surprise to see another ship so soon. More than that, there wasn't just one. There was nearly a dozen smaller frigates that surrounded a large capital ship that stretched almost half the size of the entire station. Alerts were triggered, the station was prepped and fate was soon to be decided. Roland nervously sat in his office as he looked at the blank screen besides his vox, awaiting for his associate to contact him. This was his final gambit. How could he have guessed that others felt the same way?

Argus, Laeria and Mara all walked outside their room. While Argus had gone to get food he discovered that the Faceless Legion had arrived and returned to prepare. It was quick, given they had few possessions, and they readied themselves for what was to come. They each gave their residence a last glimpse, with the hope that this would be the last time. With hope in their hearts, they bet everything on what happened on this day. Laeria breathed in and out in long deep breaths as she looked down the hallway. She had to be ready to meet a lot of others, and control her anxiety or run the risk of horrible consequences. Before they had the chance to leave, a messenger arrived and gave them word that the Faceless Legion had arrived within the vicinity, and that Roland wanted to meet with them. With nothing else to say he left, as the three thought on who exactly it was they were going to meet. Roland's associate must have been very important to be escorted by so many ships, and Mara was adamant that she wouldn't let this chance slip by. Roland had his agenda after all, and she knew he wouldn't risk it on anything going wrong.

Laeria struggled to walk in the formal dress that Mara had acquired for her, one of the spares she had kept in her room on the ship but never wore. She had to fix it to her size, and though she wasn't particularly good at sewing, it was presentable. A small bonnet over her head, fitted tightly to cover her ears. Laeria looked to her two guardians as they watched her with a sense of pride.

"I guess it's time then."

Mara nodded.

"Yes it is. Are you ready?"

Laeria nodded, taking another deep breath.

"Yes. I feel… nervous, but, I'll be ok."

Argus couldn't help but smile as he looked at Laeria. She had come a long way from the scared, frail little girl he saved. Though, in a lot of ways she saved him just as well. He was proud of her, and all his hopes for the future had her living a good life. He too, looked to the future.

"You look real important, Laeria. I'm happy to see how far you've come."

Laeria smiled as she embraced Argus with a tight hug.

"I wouldn't have gotten anywhere without you."

She looked to Mara.

"Or you either, Mara."

Mara held a hand by her mouth as she felt a warm sensation, pleasant and comforting. Laeria had trained hard and stayed determined the whole way through. She could have never imagined that she would have such pride in an Eldar… she couldn't kid herself anymore. She did not see Laeria as a xenos, and often did it slip her mind that she was Eldar at all. She would not use such a demeaning word for her. Laeria, was Laeria, and she was her pride and joy.

"While your training was rather rushed and you struggled a fair bit… I am proud to say you've impressed me. You exceeded my expectations, Laeria. I am glad to have met you."

Laeria moved over to her and hugged her as well.

"Likewise. I'm just glad you didn't kill me when we first met."

Mara petted her gently on the head.

"You made me change, even if it took a while. Now come along, we have a long day ahead of us. We have to all act our parts and stay strong till the end."

Argus nodded as he checked his lasgun for the seventh time since he first prepped it. He had to be sure that he was ready in-case anything happened.

"We don't know what's ahead of us, so we have to be careful. We can't forget that…"

Laeria grimaced at the thought of Aloi.

"I know. That other Eldar is still out there. He hasn't made a move at all yet, and today might be the only chance that he has to do whatever he is going to."

Mara nodded grimly.

"You are a smart girl, Laeria. You've learned a lot from me as well. However, I don't think this is his last chance as much as this is likely the day he has been waiting for. He could have attacked us any time, even under the 'supervision' provided by Roland. However, he has been silent and hasn't been seen leaving his room at all. We should assume that he has something prepared."

Argus bit down as he thought of it.

"We'll have to keep an eye out. With luck, we can make it to Roland's office without hassle. I'll do my best to keep you safe."

Laeria didn't want to think of Argus having to fight on her behalf.

"Please… let's not think of the worst."

Argus shook his head as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I won't die on you, no matter what. I promise."

Laeria smiled, knowing that such promises weren't easily kept.

"You always make such pleasant lies."

Argus only chuckled, even knowing that it was true.

"For your sake and mine, I hope they aren't. Come on. We should get going."

Mara took a deep breath as she held onto the hilt of her sword. This was truly going to be a very, very long day. She glanced at Argus as he gave her a wink and a smile. She blushed for a moment, simply happy that he was here with them. She gave him a nod, and they both returned to their serious focus as they looked ahead, and began to walk with Laeria between them.

At the docking bay, Aloi prepared his own final steps for his goal. He gathered his young 'students' and stealthily brought them through the vent system of the station and above the hanger bay. They were each outfitted with all the Eldar gear they managed to find. The armor of fallen aspect warriors, crudely patched with metal and bits of flak armor from long dead guardsmen. Shuriken Catapults given to all of them but Valra, who feircly held onto her own crude instruments. They were directly above the hanger bay, over the ship as they overlooked many of the crewman go about their business is a hurried rush. Aloi knew they scrambled to prepare for the coming emissaries from the Faceless legion, but his companions believed they scrambled in preparation for attack from Eldar forces. Today was the day his ruse came to an end, but he decided, he did not want to witness the faces of his young companions personally when they died. No, it was… too much of a liability for his goal to kill the 'chosen'.

He popped the vent and held it up with his hand. The younglings all looked at the scene below and then to him for their orders. He didn't look up at the faces of the others as he spoke.

"Here we are. I prepared you all for this day. I am going to go find the chosen. You all will jump down here and when you do, I need you to clear out the docking bay and hold out for as long as you can. Reinforcements will arrive soon, I assure you all. Any last questions?"

Valra rested against her spear.

"I am going with you. I cannot let you go alone. I'm sure that the chosen is heavily guarded, so you will need to have assistance."

Aloi shook his head.

"Do not concern yourself with me. I have my mission and you have yours."

The eldest of the group tapped the blade of his knife against his shoulder.

"I believe that she's right. I am sure that-"

Aloi's hand gripped tightly onto the grate of the vent as he shook.

"Do not question your elders. Have I not told you this before?"

Valra crouched over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"We need to redeem ourselves, Aloi. Please. The others will stay here and be enough to hold back the monkeigh while reinforcements come."

Aloi could not deny their request. If he pushed much more, they would surely become suspicious. He would just have to kill these two himself then, after they find the 'chosen', and his ruse is revealed. They should have just listened...

"Very well. Only you both may come with me. Everyone else, you know what to do. Are you ready?"

Those who were destined to stay nodded and steeled themselves for their task.

"Yes."

"For the Eldar."

"For our craftworld."

"For redemption."

Aloi could only look away from these fools. Still so certain.

"Then the time has come. Our paths are clear, and we will follow them to the end."

At his last word, he dropped the grate as it fell and clanged off the roof of Rolands ship catching the attention of all the crewman and guardsmen in the vicinity. With no hesitation, four young Eldar jumped down from the hole and landed on-top of the ship's hull. They openly began to fire on anyone who wasn't Eldar, and soon the alert was sounded as the crewman and the guardsman returned it. The battle had begun. Valra and the eldest paused as they looked down at the scene. The loud bangs and explosions rang in their sensitive ears, and the bright flashes of lasers clouded their vision. Aloi only pressed on, unfazed as he headed to intercept his target. Likely, Mara was taking the eldar girl to see Roland. There was only one path there, and he planned the perfect place to intercept.

He refused to glance back at the two awestricken companions still with him.

"Come on. Staring at reality will do nothing for you."

Though they did not wish to go, they pulled away their gazes from down below. Without a word they followed, leaving their friends behind to fight and, unknown to them, inevitably die.

Those four young eldar in the hanger bay were determined in their task, and believed wholly in their abilities. They found shelter along the hull of the massive ship they landed on. They periodically poked out and fired their weapons down at the growing mass of monkeigh soldiers that poured in. The crew and the guardsman were initially caught off guard, however, they reacted soon enough. Nearly seventy guardsman and crewmen combined were gunned down in the initial ambush, but as soon as the alarm was pulled, those in reserves slightly further in the station prepped themselves and ran to meet their attackers.

Roland could not believe what he heard as he was contacted through the vox on his desk. Remora dressed herself in her assassins garb immediately as she heard what was going on, and Roland initiated a lockdown of the entire station. He momentarily thought of asking his associate to postpone entering the station, however he knew that the Grand Commander of the Faceless Legion wouldn't arrive without escort. He would still notify them however, knowing that the station would inevitably be swarmed by Faceless Legions transports full of heavily armed and trained guardsman to clear the station. He would not deny such assistance, especially considering he did not know how many Eldar were attacking them.

He looked at Remora as she drew her long blade and tapped it against the palm of her hand.

"I'll go make sure that your associate arrives without a problem. I'll be sure to clear it of any assailants without mercy."

Roland knew she was very good at what she did, but still he worried.

"Be careful."

Remora smirked.

"Hey, don't worry. I'm fighting for two at the moment, so there is no way I will let them live. You on the other hand…"

Roland nodded.

"Thank you. I'll be fine. Don't forget, I'm not too bad with a bolt-pistol."

Remora turned toward the door.

"I know. You are a very good shot, with impeccable aim. With whatever you're aiming with."

Roland chuckled.

"Go on."

Without another word she was off as she ran, fast and flexible as ever. He knew she was likely excited to test her skills. It had been a while after all, since she was called on for battle. If things went the way he intended, she would have need to do it for a long time. Still…

He reached into his desk as he pulled out his bolt-pistol and held it up. He placed his borrowed commissar's hat on his head and looked to the door. Aloi was part of this whole mess, and he regretted not having taken stronger action to watch him. He knew that Mara's warning was serious, but he didn't expect that Aloi would have brought company. Ah well… one last scuffle before he retired. Still, what drove Aloi to do this confused him, even if it wasn't unexpected. There was something going on here that he didn't foresee...

Back in the docking bay the firefight continued as the young Eldar found themselves suppressed under an ever heavier degree of fire. They didn't expect such a violent reaction so quickly, nor for the monkeigh to be so relentless. Despite the many bodies that they littered the floor with, they didn't seem to make a dent in their numbers. They each began to feel the weight of combat fatigue, and the spark of fear lit in their hearts. One of them, of tall and bulky build looked to his comrades as he made a fist and held it up.

"We cannot falter! Stand strong! We are Eldar, and they are but inferior beings!"

The others were slightly bolstered by his efforts and continued their fire. He stepped out to do the same. At the same moment, the guardsmen rolled out an autogun emplacement that had been left in the station and placed it at the front of a hallway that overlooked the ship. Its crew prepped it at record speed, and within moments it opened fire as the massive shells sped through the air with loud booms. The bulky Eldar could not dodge away, as he watched a shell speed towards him. It hit his shoulder, and in the brief last moments he had, he looked to his friends. The shell exploded, as blood and smoke filled the air, the entire right side of his body blow off and strewn about the air. The rest of his body charred, boiling and smoking as it fell lifelessly to the floor and slid off the sleek edges of the ship. Those organs and insides still intact sliding out and along the smooth surface. His friends paused as they watched the fate of their friend, a rush of emotions paralyzing them in their tracks. One of them had to remove their helmet as they threw up onto the edge of the ship. Another simply shook in place as she held onto her weapon. The other turned their loss into rage as they stepped out and unleased a volley of fire at the autogun emplacement.

They were lucky as they managed to hit a shell just as it was ejected from the barrel and the entire emplacement exploded. They continued to fire as they hopped from place to place avoiding as much return fire as possible. Still, the sheer rate of lasers and bullets that assailed him nicked his armor repeatedly as it bruised the flesh beneath. Still he pushed on as he fired onto the hoard of humans.

He could only despair however as he realized that his weapon had a major malfunction as it broke with an audible crack. This caused him pause enough for the guardsmen to take their shots. In a matter of moments he was blasted with over a hundred different lasgun shots, ripping him to shreds until he was left as nothing but a bloody pile of pieces by the end.

The two remaining on the top continued to fire despite this. The reality of impending death, only fell over them like a cloud. Still they told themselves that they would push on. When their weapons gave out, they despaired as they looked at one another. Having no other option, and the firm belief that their actions had purpose, drew the blades given to them by Aloi. They gave a firm nod to the other and jumped down from the roof of the ship and onto the hanger bays floor. In a run they rushed the crowd of humans and viciously sliced through all in their path. They fought side by side, killing with precise strikes and broad slashes to keep their adversaries at bay. They didn't remain in place too long, knowing that to do so meant death. Their young physique staved of tiredness, and helped them compensate their weakness of skill. But still, they were inexperienced, fueled by the mass of emotions that shook their bodies and drove their vicious attacks. They made many mistakes, but they held fast and they held strong.

That is, until a single knife hurled through the air as one of them was pierced in the shoulder mid-air and knocked to the ground. A human woman, dressed in a sender black garb that seemed to wave as she moved, jumped out from the crowd of guardsmen. She landed on the downed Eldar and with the long knife in her hands plunged it deep into their chest until they stopped moving. Desiring nothing but revenge for their fallen comrades, the last Eldar raced for the woman. She was met with a brutal kick to the stomach as her strike was sidestepped. She responded quickly and stood, but was assaulted with blades as the woman wasted no movement. The Eldar tried to fight back, but they were out-leagued. A ring of guardsman formed around them as they watched the fight, seeing it as sport, given they realized this was the last Eldar. The others around them securing the rest of the docking bay as red lights flashed above them indicating the arrival of transports.

The human woman tired out her opponent as the young, frustrated Eldar eventually resorted to heavy swings with hopes to simply bash her way to victory. This was their last mistake, as the woman took the opportunity and grabbed their wrist breaking it. She pulled them to her as she punched the Eldar in their face, dislodging their helmet as it rolled onto the ground behind them. They attempted to block, but the woman cleanly swung her blade and an arm was left flying as it spun through the air, a trail of blood behind it.

Then, she stood over the kneeling Eldar as they looked at one another. The Eldar girl breathed heavily as she looked at the mass of monkeigh which surrounded her. She scowled as she looked up at the human woman who bested her. She tried to spit, but found that the blood in her mouth only dripped out instead.

"You may have killed us… but this is not over. You foolish Monkeigh! First you destroy our craftworld and then you take our chosen. More will come after me! My craftoworld will be avenged!"

The woman frowned as she placed the blade against the Eldar girl's neck.

"This is the end. Make peace with yourself before you go."

They heard a click at the far end of the room, and with hope in their heart the Eldar girl looked over at one of the docking bay doors as they opened. She had expected Eldar reinforcements to pour out and affirm their sacrifice, but as they finally opened her eyes widened at the horrific truth. Human soldiers, clad in heavy armor and carrying powerful weapons poured out in lines as they rushed forward. Row after row, they drew close and without mercy. In that moment her heart broke, and her mind shattered with grief. The last word she could mutter, before her head was cleanly removed from her head, was a simple one.

"Why?"

Aloi knew this outcome was inevitable. Even if he didn't know exactly how it would happen. He knew that death was all that welcomed those foolish young Eldar who followed him. He steeled himself however, and even had he been there to hear her ask, he would have not responded. No. In truth he would have relished in it, or so he would have told himself. He was too far gone, and this was destiny. There was no use denying it. If death was all that welcomed those young Eldar, if it was what welcomed him, beckoned him forward, then so be it.

"Do you think they are ok…?"

Aloi only grunted in response to the question asked behind him. Valra and the eldest continued to follow diligently behind him as they headed for their intercept point. They had heard the mass amount of footsteps from the Imperial Guard run through the halls. Likely to respond to the attack. They were distracted, just as Aloi had hoped. Though that the two followed behind him seemed to lose their nerve made his mood worse. Why had they decided to ruin his enjoyment? He should have been excited by now, fulfilled, with destiny so close at hand! Yet…Bah!

He turned around as he swung his hand against the side of the vent.

"They are likely already dead."

Valra keeled back at the intensity of his words, her previous resolve broken in but a single instant.

"What?"

Aloi shook his head.

"They wanted redemption, did they not? Do you not?"

The Eldest seemed confused, though from the look on his face Aloi could tell that he seemed to grasp what Aloi alluded to.

"No… you couldn't mean that…"

Aloi rolled his eyes. They were nearly there. Nearly there. He just had to keep up this facade for a while longer. That was all. These two younglings would not ruin it for him.

"They did not die when the humans first came. They did not fight to the last as their peers had done, and cowered away like rats. This distraction will have redeemed their previous cowardice, and give us the opportunity to rescue your precious Chosen."

The eldest lost his precious calm and collected demeanor as he reached out to grab Aloi, gripping his arm tightly.

"I thought that you cared about us? I thought you said that we would be enough-"

Aloi only chuckled as he shoved the young eldars hand off and slammed it into the wall.

"You naïve, child! Have you not heard the footsteps below you? Had you not seen the sheer lengths that the monkeigh will go to kill you or I? Did you not watch dozens of your fellows be killed one by one? Those we left behind were but four Eldar against an army of hundreds, not trained enough, and equipped with shuriken catapults they could barely handle. What did you expect to happen?"

Valra tightened her grasp on the spear in her hands. So much that it began to rub and hurt her bare palms. She could not believe what Aloi had just told her and Quintus.

"You wanted us both to go with them…"

Aloi took a deep breath.

"This is reality, Valra. You both decided to follow me instead. So make yourselves useful, it is almost time. We will find the chosen up ahead."

Valra shook her head.

"You cannot just ignore this!"

Aloi turned back to look at her as he grabbed her by the neck hole of her armor and pulled it close. Her face was pressed right in-front of his, and the horrible, frightening emotions that he sent off churned her stomach. She couldn't say a word, even as he shoved her back and continued to press forward.

"We have a mission, Valra. Do what you are told. The others have given us the distraction to rescue the chosen, and the reinforcements will be here soon. We must hurry."

In morbid silence, they complied and followed for a short length of time before Aloi stopped. They were right above the central hallway of the Officers Sector in the station, where Argus, Laeria and Mara were near approaching. Aloi pressed on the grate below him as he prepared himself, seeking that high he so desperately desired. As he heard the footsteps below, he nudged his head to gain the attention of the two younglings behind him.

"They are almost here. Get ready."

Below them, Argus had just stepped into the length of hallway. Mara and Laeria right behind him as they walked cautiously. Their destination was only but a few more turns ahead. Still, the tensions they felt did not dissipate. Especially in Laeria who felt sicker with every step, as if at any moment something terrible would happen. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as she felt something. Still, nobody spoke for fear that their paranoia would be proven right. Argus held up his lasgun as he went, the most worried of the bunch. Mara unnerved by the lack of guardsmen or crew that they should have seen. She had chosen the route that took them as far out of the way of others, but still… this was uncanny. She could only begin to worry that something had happened, that they were blissfully unaware of.

Just before they could pass the grate, Laeria felt a sharp jab in her mind. She stopped as she clenched the side of her head.

"Stop!"

Argus and Mara stopped immediately as well, as Mara reached out for her.

"Laeria, what's wrong?"

Laeria remembered this awful feeling.

"Aloi… he's here…"

Aloi flinched as he knew was discovered. But it didn't matter. He slammed his hand onto the grate as he pushed through and fell down onto the floor. The two younglings followed behind him as they lifted their weapons and raised them at the group before them. Argus fired his lasgun as quickly as he saw it happen. He missed Aloi, however, he managed to nick the Eldest behind him in his arm. Though the armor saved the flesh, the bone beneath was broken and the shuriken catapult he held fell to the floor in pieces.

Mara drew her sword as she stood between Laeria and Aloi. Argus was about to fire again, however, Aloi threw a knife that stabbed through his hand, forcing his shot to hit the roof. Out of pain he dropped it onto the floor, and before he could try to grab it again Aloi threw another knife that sliced through the firing mechanism.

Before his two young companions interfered he held up his hand and spoke, his eyes directed at Laeria. He smiled, a sense of relief washing over him as he knew it was almost over.

"Hello, Chosen, we've come for you."

He pointed his hand forward as he motioned for his two pawns to act. They did, the eldest going for Argus and Valra for Laeria. Though as Valra looked at them, she found herself momentarily confused. Why had the chosen been so poorly guarded? Why here? Either way, it mattered not. She had to get her back.

"Don't worry, we've come to save you."

Before Laeria could speak up, Mara pushed her further behind her as she met the Eldar girls spear with her sword and shoved her back. She was quick as she dodged several strikes, grabbing onto the metal pole and shoving it aside. She had the chance to kill her assailant with a single strike, her swords edge lined perfectly to shove into her chest. However… knowing that Laeria was behind her, made her flinch for just a moment. She swerved the blade away and punched the eldar girl in her face with the hilt of her sword instead. Then she grabbed the girl's wrist and broke it in a single motion, before she kicked her away.

Argus took a swing to the shoulder as he grappled with the other Eldar. He used the injury caused form his Lasgun against him, holding onto his arm as he twisted and pulled. This gave him enough of a chance to reach onto his person and pull a large knife like object. Argus was just about to stab him with it, but the Eldar pushed through their own pain and shoved him away. Argus fell to the floor, and the Eldar went after him. Argus kicked once as he did, pushing him into the wall. Argus quickly sat up as he swung his body forward. The knife held in his hand as it came down and stabbed through the Eldar's frail armor, the flesh along his shoulder bone and into the wall behind him, pinning him in place.

Aloi watched with disappointment the whole time. He didn't even make an attempt to move. He simply gazed on the sad, pathetic little girl who cowered behind her guardians. Though, seeing as his disappointing young pawns couldn't do anything, he decided it was finally time for the ruse to end. He pulled out a small ball, pressed the button on its side and tossed it at Mara who continued to fight against Valra. The ball expanded rapidly in a few moments as it bubbled and stuck to the both of them, paralyzing them in place. It was a harmless, expanding material that was sticky, and hard to remove. That it caused no pain or did anything lethal was purposeful. He used it to paralyze his prey, then, if he needed to extract information, held them in place while he removed it out of them. Otherwise, it gave him a momentary pleasure to be as his race truly was. This time however, it would make his revenge much easier. Mara could watch helplessly.

He pointed at Laeria, who continued to stand frozen with fear.

"You… how I never thought I would meet you. The one who ruined my life."

Laeria's mind reeled as it tried to process everything that had just happened. She wanted to scream, to so desperately try and stop this madness, but her mouth did not move. Her body refused to do anything and she shook. The sight of blood sent shivers down her spine, and seeing the two people whom she cared about fight… she couldn't do nothing. That Aloi had managed to bring other Eldar here… that they now fought the people she cared about- it made her angry. It made her frustrated! It made her scared… it made her all of these things and more at once. She had to move! She had to do something… She… She couldn't avoid Aloi's gaze as he looked at her. He was like a black hole that sucked away all the good feelings, all the happiness she had felt as he stared at her with such contempt. Nothing but a paralyzing fear consumed her. A smile crept on his face as he looked at her. She had no idea who he was he was doing this. Why he seemed to think he knew her. What he hoped to gain. Still, she managed to push through, if barely.

She swallowed her fear, even as the rabid emotions swirled around her and took a single step forward.

"E-Enough! Stop…! Let them go. Argus and Mara haven't done anything to deserve this! I don't know what I did but…"

Aloi closed his eyes as he laughed.

"Stop? Oh, you naïve little girl! There is no stopping this."

Valra and the eldest both looked to Aloi. What was going on? Valra couldn't understand why the chosen would protect monkeigh.

"Chosen… why are…"

Laeria gritted her teeth as she looked at her.

"I am not your chosen! I am Laeria!"

Argus stood up, flinching at his wounds, but still ready to fight. He placed himself between Laeria and Aloi, his undamaged hand held up in a fist. Aloi only laughed, louder and louder as he looked at this scene. At the feeble little child behind a human who desperately wanted to protect her. This girl, was the one who destined him to this horrid fate? He looked to his two companions, his 'students', who ended up being nothing but disappointments.

"I had at least expected you to kill the guardsmen. Yet, you didn't even manage that. I suppose you weren't ready after all. But, truth be told, your 'redemption' was doomed from the start. The both of you really are too weak, filled with foolish ideas about the illustrious, 'Eldar'."

Valra tried desperately to break away from the foam that held her in place. Yet no matter how hard she moved, it didn't budge, and she could only watch as Aloi stared at her with such a vile smile. While she had come to know him as someone with a temper… she didn't expect this. This sadistic glee he seemed to carry around. He began to frighten her as her faith in him wavered.

"W-What are you doing Aloi?"

Aloi stepped closer towards Laeria, ignoring Argus who continued to stand in his way.

"I am going to fulfill my destiny. Because of this child, I lost everything! And now, I have to fulfill my destiny. No use hiding the truth from you. I was banished from your craftworld, sold as a slave to our dark kin by your kin, and brought through immeasurable suffering, all to bring me here. The Farseers Council was so adamant about their predictions that they created the outcome they hoped to avoid. Don't you see now, Valra? We Eldar are horrible, monstrous creatures! Just like everything else in this wretched universe! But, at least these Monkeigh make no effort to hide their filth."

Laeria had no idea what he meant, why he would have been banished. Still, she could not bear to hear him talk of destiny. He was a monster!

"You are making excuses… to justify that hate you carry around yourself. I decided my own destiny. I chose to forgo whatever they wanted me to be. You…"

Aloi drew his sword from its place beside his leg and flicked it to the side.

"Be quiet! This is your destiny as much as it is mine! This universe does not care about your naïve, pathetic hopes and ideals. If this universe is so adamant about my place, about my destiny, who am I to deny it? I will kill you, I will kill your guardians, I will kill these foolish young Eldar, and then I will die letting our craftworld fade away into bloody oblivion!"

Valra stopped struggling altogether as she heard him. She merely looked at him with blank eyes.

"There were never any reinforcements were there… why did you train us? Why not just kill us? Why not spare us this?"

Aloi's hands shook as he refused to let her try and guilt him, not now in his time of destiny! He swung towards her, sliding the edge of his sword along her cheek until she began to bleed. He had intended on killing her outright, but something in him refused to follow through. Damn his weakness! Not now… He pulled his sword away, removing swaths of her hair as he let out a primal growl of frustration.

"You were supposed to die with the others! To die in a hopeless battle against what you consider lesser beings! I trained you to give you hope, I told you reinforcements were coming to make you believe in a future, all so it could all be taken away! So that you could understand the suffering, the pain, the oblivion, that I felt when your precious Craftworld betrayed me! Someone has to understand the suffering that I have undergone! Someone has to be punished for what was done to me!"

The Eldest coughed as blood from his busted lip dripped along his cheek. He didn't even attempt to remove the knife that pinned him against the wall, his will to fight eroded into nothingness.

"Our craftworld was destroyed. We were scattered, left without home or safety. Wasn't that punishment enough?"

Aloi halted the urge to just kill him, even as his emotions ran high. He calmed himself as he returned to a static pose.

"Your craftworld deserved its fate. We Eldar act so ethereal, as if we are above the filth that surrounds us. But in truth, we are just the same. Filth. We've caused so much misery, so much anguish and pain, yet ignore our faults and our crimes when it suits us. We allow our dark brethren to exist, and hide the fact that they are truly what we are inside. I could not let you escape believing otherwise, and I could not let you escape the universes judgment either."

Argus gripped his hands tightly as he looked at the vicious figure in front of him. He had been able to do nothing but stand and listen. His head spun, and he knew there was little he could actually do against Aloi. There was a good chance he wouldn't get out of this, but he refused to simply let Aloi get passed him and to Laeria. Yet even still, through Alois anger, he saw some glimmer of sadness. But there was no sympathy, there was no chance for it anymore. He could only think how, once he might have become something similar. However, he made the decision to be something different. Listening to Aloi go on he only got angry. He wouldn't let this bastard feel so righteous about his decisions.

He tightened his good hand into a fist and held it up as if to challenge Aloi.

"You kid yourself. You have always had a choice to do whatever the hell you want. I know that this universe is cruel, I know how unforgiving and how uncaring it is. But it was you who decided to let it decide your fate. You can go on about how this is fate, but who is it that brought you here if you didn't do it yourself? We can't choose our circumstances, we can't choose many things. We decide for ourselves what we want to be, where we go, and we can struggle to try and make that happen. But when given the chance to decide what you wanted, you were such a coward that you refused to make the decision for yourself. So, instead, you decided to make it an excuse for all the things you've done and drag yourself here."

The young Eldar, Mara and Laeria all looked to Argus. He stood proudly, without fear and without hesitation even as Aloi drew close. For Mara, she knew that Argus wouldn't give up, even if it meant his death. That she couldn't break free to help him, set her heart trembling. She refused to let him or Laeria be killed, and to that end she forced the blade of her sword to cut into the foam as she pushed it against it. Slowly, she hoped, it would give. For the young Eldar, they found themselves confounded with so many emotions, wracked with the betrayal of their teacher. Yet, in the words of this monkeigh, who so confidently spouted that fate was their own to make, they were at a loss. Laeria had been around Argus for so long, and so diligently believed in his desire to make his own way. Though now, that he stood bloodied and bruised in front of her, she only wanted him to live. She couldn't let him be the one who risked everything for her, she had to protect him now.

"Argus… please, don't get yourself killed. I… I…"

Aloi took a deep breath as he stabbed his sword into the ground.

"You think that spouting such nonsense will keep me from killing you? Will change my mind? Whether I am right or wrong does not matter. This_ is_ my choice. To follow the destiny that life has laid before me. Just as you seem to be so fond of a child whom you should hate, I desire to fulfill my revenge. I will not be talked down to by the likes of you. I will beat you to death, and then I will kill that wretched woman. Then my two companions will go to the immaterium behind you. And only then, will I kill that child you so desperately want to protect. By then, the human forces from the Faceless Legion should arrive and I will willingly give myself unto death. Together, we will all go into oblivion! "

Argus readied himself. After a single moment of silence it was broken as Aloi kicked off the ground forward. Argus did his best to counter his strikes, but found himself out-matched entirely. While he was able to keep up with the young Eldar who attacked him, Aloi had spent many hundreds of years training and forging his body. It was child's play. He grabbed Argus by his wounded hand and slung it aside at such speeds that it dislocated his shoulder. Argus tried to guard with his other hand, but Aloi punched his arm with such force that bones cracked beneath. He kicked his feet from under him as Argus fell to the floor with a loud clang. Yet Argus managed to get a single hit as he kicked Aloi's leg, right on the top of his ankle. He nearly lost balance as he twisted to stay up, and Argus took the moment to look back at Laeria.

"Run Laeria! Get out of here!"

Laeria remained frozen in place, even as she felt a slosh of blood hit her face and stain her dress. She watched as Aloi stomped on Argus leg, breaking it, and shuddered. Though Mara yelled at her to go, she could not turn away. This was her greatest fear that these, her guardians whom she cared about so dearly would be killed because of her. No! No! She could not stand by anymore!

"Get away!"

She thrusted her hand forward, unleashing as much power as she could muster as Aloi was taken off guard and shot backwards along the hallway. He managed to brunt the force of the psychic attack as it pressed onto his skin and his mind. Though Laeria was clearly improperly trained, out of practice, and lacked experience, she still held so much potential. His arms tensed tightly as several veins busted and muscles ripped. An injury that would not matter as he was soon to die anyway. He caught onto his sword and stood in place until he knew Laeria could not sustain it anymore.

Laeira, having exhausted all of her power fell to a knee right beside Argus who looked at her. Still more concerned for her well-being than his own, even when he was bloodied and could barely feel his numbed limbs anymore.

"You should have run."

Laeria shook her head through the short breathes she managed as she looked up at Aloi.

"No… I… I could never leave you to die. I would never."

Mara had the distraction she needed as she finally managed to break out of the foam, using her sword to slice through and free her arm. She quickly used the blade to cut the rest of herself free, watching as Aloi slowly stood up again. Hatred in her heart, she rushed to meet him. He had been so focused on Argus and Laeria that he didn't realize Mara escaped, but he was quick enough to react so that he missed the brunt of the swing. He swayed to the side, pulling his sword from the ground and cutting Mara's arm from her elbow to the start of her hand. Her sword stuck into his shoulder as it pressed deeply through to the other side. Before she could do any more damage he kicked her back with a blow to the chest as she stumbled to the ground. No more, Aloi wouldn't let this go on anymore!

"You will not stop destiny!"

He looked back down the hallway at Laeria and Argus. However, his eyes widened as he saw what came from behind them. The Faceless Legion had arrived. The entire hallway ahead filled with human soldiers, clad in heavy carapace armor and wielding hot-shot lasguns. A man in the middle of them all, who wore a black coat that covered his entirety, his face hidden away by shadows. He himself froze as he heard a distinct click behind him. Then, he heard a familiar voice.

"You played your hand Aloi. Seems, that luck didn't favor you this go round. I have to say, you were a damn good assassin for me. But, I think you've done enough to be removed from the crew."

He turned around in attempt to stab Roland, but paused as he saw him accompanied by an entire row of guardsmen armed with bolt-guns. Roland smiled as he flicked a finger forward, and the guardsmen opened fire as Aloi's body was riddled with bullets. Still he persisted, even as he barely clung to life, falling onto his knees. His right arm having been completely severed by the hail of fire, his armor only barely enough to have prevented major holes from rupturing his body. Still, bullets were ledged their way inside his flesh and rattled about his organs as he bled profusely. He gasped for air as he reached out towards the ceiling with his hand. Blood pouring from his mouth.

"This… was not my destiny."

Roland shook his head as he held his boltgun beside Aloi's head and pulled the trigger. With a single bang, Aloi came to a final, violent end. With that done, the guardsmen from the faceless legion went to work as they secured both of the young Eldar and chained them. Though, much to Mara, Argus and Laeria's surprise, they were treated with a carefulness that was unwarranted. Argus pulled onto a gurney as medicae tended to his wounds, and Mara stood beside Laeria who could not hide that she was an Eldar, her hat having fallen off and inquiry impossible to avoid. Roland made his way over towards them, placing his boltgun back into place on his holster.

"Well, that was certainly something. I am glad to see that you managed to survive. All three of you."

Mara pushed the tired and weak Laeria behind her.

"What happens now?"

Roland took a deep breath as he stepped to the side.

"Don't worry. No harm will come to any of you, even the Eldar girl you've taken in. I figured it out a while ago (not really). In any case, I would like to introduce you to my associate, the Grand Commander of the Faceless Legion himself. He has agreed to help you. Though…"

The man clad in a dark coat stepped forward as he gave a slight bow.

"Hello, Lady Mara of House Valor. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Mara gritted her teeth.

"I can't trust you. I know what becomes of traitors…"

The Grand Commander shook his head.

"You've got me wrong. Me and my Faceless Legion. I know that it is hard to simply trust me, but, I ask that you do. I have no intention of harming any of you. In fact, I am willing to offer you all a place on our homeworld. I promise you, the last thing I want is for any of you to be hurt."

As Laeria looked at him, she felt an odd feeling. As if the warp simply… didn't exist around the man. It was a warm presence, one that was almost the opposite of what Aloi had exuded. For some reason, one that even slightly scared her, she felt that she could trust him.

"We can trust him Mara."

Mara shook her head as she looked at Laeria.

"I…"

Laeria gazed at her with hopeful eyes, as she both smiled and hugged her tightly. Her gaze then shifting towards Argus who had fallen unconscious on the gurney he was placed.

"Go with Argus and stay with him while he recovers. I can handle talking with the Grand Commander."

Mara simply felt that she should trust her. Why she was willing to trust that things would be ok, she couldn't understand. But she refused to leave Laeria alone all the same.

"I can't leave you alone-"

The Grand Commander took a deep breath.

"I promise you, she will be ok. Do as she asked, and soon you will be reunited. But, I do have some things to speak with the young Eldar girl."

Mara gritted her teeth, stuck between what she should do, until Laeria grasped her hand.

"Please, be there for Argus for me. Let him know we made it."

Mara closed her eyes and nodded. Their fate was uncertain, and she didn't have anything else to do but trust her. She only hoped things would turn out for the best.

"Ok… I trust you, Laeria. I don't know what will happen from here… but… I will trust you."

Laeria smiled.

"Thank you, Mara. I promise… we'll be ok."

Mara hesitated as she walked off, and followed beside the Medicae that took Argus. She constantly lookd back at Laeria, a hand ever on her sword which she recovered. Laeria hated that she subtly influenced her to go, but she felt it was necessary. It was her turn to do something for them.

The Grand Commander looked to Roland.

"I wish to speak with the girl alone for a bit. Please see Mara to the infirmary on my ship with their injured companion. Treat them with the upmost respect and care, for they are to be my guests. Any infraction will result in an immediate and harsh response. My guardsmen meanwhile, will secure the station long enough for everyone to evacuate onto my transports. As for the prisoners…"

Two of the guardsmen shoved the two hollowed eyed Eldar forward as they began to walk down the hall. Heavy chains placed around their arms and their legs. Even though she had not seen them before, even if they had attacked her guardians, Laeria could not just let them suffer. They had been betrayed by Aloi…

"Please… do not harm them."

The Grand Commander looked to Laeria and thought. After a few moments he nodded.

"Very well. I will be sure they are unharmed. Though they will have to be dealt with eventually. But perhaps… you can assist me in this."

With that said, the Grand Commander waited with Laeria as everyone around them left. Until the entire hallway remained empty with only them in its center. Laeria had at first questioned why his soldiers would so easily leave him unguarded, and alone with what they should have seen as a filthy xenos, but as she thought of it, she came to realize something. He was a powerful entity, one which even scared her as she continued to remain in his presence. Then she felt it, a small smidge of memory that seemed to leak from him, and she shivered at the realization.

"It was you… who destroyed my Craftworld. Have you come to finish what you started?"

The Grand Commander shook his head.

"Yes, it was me. However, I truly do not want to harm you. Had that been my goal, you would have been dead a long time ago. Though it is hard to believe, I am sure, I truly mean no harm to you. I simply wish to offer you a life away from conflict, and in peace on our capital world. After all, of it wasn't for me, with that little psychic outburst, daemons would have pounced on you and everyone else here."

Laeria couldn't understand it. Why was he...?

"Is this out of regret? For destroying my craftworld?"

The Grand Commander shook his head as he walked with Laeria, away from the bloodied stains that remained in the hallway. He gently pushed her on, as they made a decent pace.

"I do not regret my decision. Though I cannot say I am happy about it either. I despise violence, but regrettably I am forced to commit it. If there is a better way forward, I would prefer that be the solution. This is a dangerous universe, but everyone has choice to act as they will. And I know that you do not want violence either. You are still young, Laeria. Able to make your own decisions, and forge a newer future."

Laeria looked over the Grand Commander, though she couldn't gather anything definable aside from the dark coat he wore.

"I am likely older than you…"

He shook his head.

"I am much, much older than I think you realize."

The two continued to walk together until they came to the docking bay where evacuation of the station was underway. The grand Commander stopped at the edge of the hallway and looked to Laeria.

"This universe is one filled with many difficult choices, and things that cannot be avoided. I am tired of the violence. But, such isn't so easy to make go away, nor will it ever permanently. I am sure you realize the history of brutality and violence between humans and Eldar. There is no right side, perceptions certainly, but the only correct path is the one which we decide. I am willing to offer you the chance to make a choice that will allow you to live your life freely and without fear for the future, along with your two guardians. I am willing to make you a deal."

Laeria knew that this wouldn't be for nothing.

"What exactly is it that you want?"

The Grand Commander petted Laeria on her head.

"You really assume wrong about me. But, yes, there is benefit for myself in this. There is use for Eldar talents within my grand plan, shall I say. Someone who can live a long time and record what they've seen. That however is not for a while yet. I do need you for this plan though. What my end goal is, I can't say. But all I need you to do is to live a good life and take the position that your guardian has given you. You will become a noble of House Valor, as will your descendants. You will also help me watch over any Eldar that come around to my ideas, and help ensure they both remain in line and are raised to be faithful allies. You are an important figure to them after all. But, do remember this. One reason to show doubt, and I will not sow mercy to them or to you."

Laeria could feel the weight that carried in his words as he looked at her, though she could not see his face behind the dark shroud that covered it. Still, if that was necessary for her to ensure that she, Argus and Mara could survive, she would do it. No matter what the deal was, she would have taken it.

"Then it's done. I will do whatever I have to, to ensure that Argus and Mara can live happily. So that I can live happily with them."

The Grand Commander held out his hand.

"Realize one other thing. That making a deal with me isn't normal, shall we say. I will remove you entirely from the Warps influence. You will be different in a sense. You will lose a lot which makes Eldar, Eldar. Without your connection to the warp, your emotions will not run nearly as deep, and you will lose everything associated with that connection. Your powers, your longevity, your senses with other Eldar. You will essentially be human aside from your biology."

Laeria would not hesitate. She hardly even considered herself Eldar anymore, and if she could remove from herself the stain that haunted her, the powers she did not ask for, she would do it. The Eldar created someone like Aloi, and she shuddered to think what she might have become had she continued to be led by the Fareseers. While all that the Farseers had done led her to meet Argus and Mara, she did not wish to be part of the Eldar anymore. Right or wrong, she wished for something else. She was once considered a prophetic figure by the Eldar, and that caused so much pain and strife. This time, she had a choice to make and it would be her own to follow. She reached out to grab The Grand Commanders hand and shook it.

"It is a deal."

The figure took a deep breath as they removed their hood and smiled.

"I wish the best for you, Laeria. I am glad you decided to accept. May your days be filled with happy days."

Laeria chuckled to herself as the weight of everything that had happened really fell on her. She was exhausted, and she suddenly felt the urge to sleep. Still, she felt a warmth in her heart, and no matter what, this was her decision and the path she would follow from here on, would be her own.

"I suppose humans and Eldar really aren't that different…"

The Grand commander picked her up in his arms, gently as he walked with her down the docking bay.

"As different as we want to be, Laeria."

He flashed away with her in a wisp of darkness, and then reappeared in the infirmary where Argus and Mara were. He placed her down on the bed as she slept, much to the confusion and shock of Mara. Without another word he disappeared, and left the three alone together. They had managed to survive through it all, and they deserved some genuine rest. Mara did not question it any further as she saw Laeria entirely unharmed, looking her over to ensure she was ok. Argus would make a full recovery, if severely scarred and his right hand likely never to function quite the same again. Mara's arm was bandaged and wrapped in a tight cast that was attached to a sling around her neck. It would likely not be quite the same ever again either. But, it didn't matter. As long as they were together, that's all that mattered to her. So, she leaned the chair she sat on against the wall between her two dear companions. She closed her eyes and took a deep, relieved breath. While past experience screamed at her that she shouldn't rest so easy, she felt that things would be ok.

As soon as the evacuation had finalized and the transports returned to the Faceless Legions fleet, turrets rotated into place and munitions were loaded. Roland stood beside Remora as he looked out at the station through a screen. His ship still was inside, now empty and scrapped of anything useful. He watched with a sad melancholy as the ships of the Faceless Legions opened fire and began to destroy it altogether, the station torn apart until nothing remained but scraps. Still, as Remora pressed herself against him, he was willing to let it go and start a new chapter in his life. Well, the new one that he would make, given everyone aboard the station had their records officially transcribed as deceased, killed in battle with a xenos incursion, and sent to the local administorum. Luckily, the Grand Commander of the Faceless Legion found use in him and was willing to take him and his crew. His family would surely throw a fit but, they now wouldn't be able to tarnish their legacy as Rogue Traders. Hey, they would think he was dead after all, so it didn't matter much. All in all, this was his choice in the end.

Truthfully, this was the result of many people's choices in the end. Everyone had their own hopes, desires, goals and perceptions. However it shaped out, they had some part in being where they were now, perhaps some more than others. Though, only those who sought to make their own path would know how far they made it. In a universe so cold and uncaring, the only purpose that mattered was the one decided on for themselves. From the lofty ideals of those with power, to the Eldar who sought his revenge, to the Rogue Trader who wished to settle, the Noble seeking companionship to protect, the man who wishes to serve his Imperium no matter the body, to the young girl who wanted to have her own choice, to that of a simple Guardsman and his desire to make his own purpose.

* * *

_**Ok. So, this became much, much larger than I ever intended. But I do not regret it and I think it has served the story well that I expanded it as much as I have. Truthfully, I very much enjoyed writing this story and it has helped me in a lot of ways. I really like this story, though it does have its flaws. It has been very good practice too, to help polish and expand my skills (especially with 3rd person, seeing as I generally use 1st). I know some folks didn't like it as much, but hey, that's completely fine. I know this story was rather different in a lot of ways from my first, and not everyone's expected (nor should they be) to like it. Hey, that's part of the deal when you become a writer. Though I do wish to apologize for how long this has taken me to complete. I could explain why, but eh, basically life is unpredictable and to write this much takes time (especially with editing), while also having a lot of other projects and stuff going on. While I did say I would only post whenever I finished a part, its been long enough that I feel kinda bad about it. Something I have always disliked is for a writer to make an expectation only to never fulfill on that promise, which unfortunately happens a bit too often with Fanfics. Though, I always plan my stories beginning to end, so I guess I have an idea of how everything fits; not that things don't change or alter course as I go, its part of the joy of writing for me, but I at least have a grasp on what I want and expect from my own story.**_

_**Anyway, I do hope that you have enjoyed this story and perhaps have even been given a little thought from it. If anything, that it helped pass the day a little would make me happy to hear. This fic deals a lot with the ideas of perception and choice. Something I care a lot about, but as with all my stories, I merely wish to give something for people to think about. I certainly have my own ideas on the matter, which you probably can guess from the story, but everyone sees things in their own way and I encourage anyone to view my story in their own light. In any case, feel free as always to comment or not. You see anything that can be improved with my grammar and the like, would be appreciated if you let me know.**_

_**I wish you well, dear reader, especially during these crazy times of ours. Thank you for reading!**_

_**P.S The next fic is a long way out probably so... not going to set a precedence I can't fulfill. Sometime in the future, likely, whenever that is. Also there will be an epilogue for this current fic to finish it off fully, sometime as well. Likely soon.**_


	28. A Guardsman's Purpose (Epilogue)

A Guardsman's Purpose:

Epilogue

The Grand Commander kept well on his promises. Argus, Mara and Laeria were given complete safety with the Faceless Legion as they traveled towards the legions Homeworld. A new life ahead of them. The crew and all of the Commanders associates even ignored Laeria being a xeno. Every interaction that they had with respect and dignity given to her and her guardians. It was as if they didn't care that she wasn't human. Though Laeria knew full and well this was likely out of loyalty to their commander. Even if, after the first time that they had met the Grand Commander, they had not seen him since. The person whom they actually interacted the most with being his second in command, a man named William Camus. He arranged everything for them, generally without prior consent, and ensured that their every need was tended to.

From the infirmary they were moved to the officers' quarters of the flagship into a large and eloquently furnished room titled the 'guest quarters'. Enough beds and spare clothing for each of them. A functional shower, fresh drinking water and many other special reservations all provided with no stipulations. From such a limited living space to this was a massive jump, one Laeria or her guardians didn't take lightly. They were even provided meals every day, varied and expertly prepared by trained cooks. The three of them even allowed their privacy, though they were never far from the guard detail constantly posted nearby. Not that they were allowed to wonder very far from the room. Their interactions with the crew or anyone else fairly limited, save for the few crewmen assigned to cater to them. Most inquiries as to why they were treated so well or about the Grand Commander often ignored. William Camus rarely the one who answered questions when he checked on them every week. He would always be to the point with everything that he needed said, check to ensure they were enjoying their stay, and then leave. Not that it mattered why. They were safe, and allowed to remain together. That was good enough.

When Argus had woken up he was in shock at where he was and what had happened. Of all them, he didn't expect to be let off so easily. Even if he had sustained enough injuries to keep him on bed rest for a few weeks, not that he expressed any discontent. To his surprise, it seemed that he actually garnered some respect amongst the guardsmen of the Faceless Legion. Likely due to the Grand Commanders influence, given how William insisted he behave a proper example when around them, which wasn't often. Either way, Argus adapted to the drastic change in circumstances well, being content that they were all alive and well. As long as he was with Laeria and Mara, he wouldn't complain.

Mara on the other hand, found herself both relaxed and constantly paranoid by their circumstances. She only managed to keep herself calm and her desire for answers stemmed for Argus and Laeria's sake. But, their accommodations suggested that they weren't in immediate danger at the very least. That and she was still with her two dear companions, so she could not entirely complain. That she was also allowed to simply have a shower was a major relief. Rather than continue to focus on an uncertain future, she ultimately decided to take things as they came. She continued to give lessons to Laeria, and Argus who listened in, every day. When she asked about acquiring books, to her surprise she was quickly provided with whatever she asked. Well from whatever was available on the ship, though she assumed some were kept from them. Regardless, she took it on herself to teach the both of her companions how to understand and read high gothic, as they would need it to be nobles. Her promise with Argus popping up at the back of her mind some nights, sleeping beside him. She found herself become more lax, and perhaps even more sensual than she ever though she would be. One day she even held onto his hand simply to do so. Seeing that he took great interest in writing High Gothic, something he only had a basic understanding of, she took it upon herself to teach him as well. A bonding experience of sorts, one that she enjoyed. Every day she occupied herself with her companions, and at times she even forgot their peculiar circumstances. She could not imagine life without this family she found for herself, standing beside someone she could call her equal in Argus, and watching Laeria be so healthy and with hope. It brought warmth to her heart.

Laeria, however, did not tell either of them of the deal she made with the Grand Commander. She only said that neither he nor his Faceless Legion meant them any harm, not that she knew why. Both of them were appropriately apprehensive of her explanation, especially seeing as she struggled to justify it. No matter how many times they asked her about the truth, she avoided the question and stayed adamant about not telling them. While Mara tried intensively to get it out of her, Argus eventually convinced her to let Laeria tell them when she was ready. That they were together was simply enough. Not that Laeria's two guardians didn't remain cautious and careful around their hosts. They had all the reason to be after all, even if she knew they weren't in any danger. She could just _feel_ it, with absolute certainty. Ever since she she had woken up, after her talk with the Grand Commander, she felt different. She was different. Well, just like he said she would be. The psychic itch she had grown accustomed to, just gone. She felt a relief she had never felt before. To the point that it felt surreal now that it wasn't around, having been so accustomed to it constant presence. It felt as if the warp simply did not affect her at all, that she was disconnected. That her body no longer felt its strain, nor the strain of her own powers which also faded away.

She discovered this was the case when she tried to use her powers on purpose, only for nothing to occur. Her emotions too, were incredibly dulled compared to what they once were. Now, they weren't so quick to change or be so intense they drove her mad. Ultimately, she found that she was only slightly above a human level as far as emotions went. In a way it even made understanding and communicating both easier and harder at the same time. It was odd… to say the least. Though, she didn't have to suppress herself anymore, and that allowed her to feel so much more.

Not that she didn't have some abilities, though none she expressly remembered having before. It was a very… frightening experience at first, one she didn't quite understand how to take. Since she kept it secret from Mara and Argus she was alone in figuring it out. Taking time while they slept to test her limits. What at first she thought were voices from some entity clawing at her mind, she realized were actually voices from those around her. She could see into people's thoughts now, hear what they said to themselves, if she tried hard enough. Admittedly, this was something that she could have done before with her connection to the warp, but this felt different. This was almost a passive glance, not a forceful glimpse. It wasn't using anything else to do it, she simply could. It was hard for her to put into words really. She just knew it wasn't the same. It was all too eerie, and it deeply discomforted her. So, she decided to ignore it and whatever else she gained from her pact with whatever the Grand Commander actually was. As long as she didn't actively try to use her newfound abilities, they didn't occur and they didn't strain her in any way. All that mattered to her was that she had secured her family a chance to live a good life. That was good enough. Especially now that the time she spent with Argus and Mara was freer than before.

Not that she didn't keep in mind she had to keep her side of the deal. Though every time she expected instructions for what she was actually supposed to do, she never got them. She had hoped that the Grand Commander would speak with her, or that at least his subordinates would. But they did not, and she was simply left uncertain. Yet, she refused to let that affect her peace and so she enjoyed herself while she could.

Except, there was one other thing she did. When William came to check on them, she had asked to see the two captured Eldar, held within heavy confinement on the ship. He denied her request several times, and not wanting to let Argus or Mara know, she backed off every time. Then one day he simply accepted and had a guard escort her to their containment, where she was allowed a single hour to talk with them. She knew that the two of them had tried to kill Argus and Mara. That they would have without remorse. Yet, she could not help but feel sympathy for them. She remembered how Aloi betrayed them, and the emotions of helplessness and emptiness that they bled as he explained it to them.

But to her dismay, what she found in the cells were two quiet and solemn bodies who at first refused to even acknowledge her. They acted lifeless as they laid about and barely did anything to keep their health. To the point that they were forced to wear bracers that periodically injected them with enough nutrients to survive. When she tried to talk to them and convince them to join her, to do anything that wasn't waste away, they rebuked her. That her emotions were dulled, she found she even struggled to simply understand their actions or their intense feelings. Not wanting to use her powers to intrude upon their minds, she tried her best to just converse. To be as calm and sympathetic as she could but they wouldn't have it. The male only spit at her as he called her a worthless traitor. Despite her pleas against it, the guards sent with her beat him until he apologized, and he only gave in very near death. That incident made her not want to return, but she remained adamant and every day since she was allowed went to see them for the entire hour. She stayed calm, and made herself as dignified as she could just as Mara's lessons of noble-hood prepared her. Tried to be as strong and confident around them as she could muster, hopeful they would open up to her if she pushed hard enough.

After her twentieth time trying to speak with them, she managed to break through their stubborn self-pity. The female finally told her name, Valra. Then, she asked her why she sided with the 'monkeigh'. Why Laeria, their 'chosen', seemed so happy given where she was, and how she could so easily forgo her craftworld, her duty and her destiny. Laeria would not have it. Their foolish talk of destiny which brought them to this cell, which they desperately wanted to dictate things for them. No, she would tell them what she had come to learn. She simply told them it was her choice to be where she was. That she was not a slave to some destiny decided for her. That she made the decision to make her own path, and they had the chance to make their own. When she finished they didn't respond, and only stared at her till she had to leave. That was the last time she was allowed to see them, and she found herself often wonder at their wellbeing.

The trip back to the Faceless Legions homeworld was, overall, a very quiet affair, and only lasted about sixty days' time. When they finally arrived, while they waited for the docking procedures to pass, they didn't know what to expect. However, William was quick to explain as they got close to the planets surface. Their new estate was ready and prepared for them, and they were to remain on world as a wing of the Imperial Knight House Valor. As usual, they were then rushed along without time for questions, escorted to a waiting vehicle prepared for them at the ramp they exited from. Ushered inside by their escorts, they were driven out of the massive space dock and into a bustling city which gave way into forest as they stopped at a secluded area in the middle of a forest.

Mara had seen most of these things before, though the architecture and the layout of the city was rather different than most worlds she had seen. This city only a single level, separated into various districts with its citizens able to move about freely and do their business. Other vehicles driven along the road, likely owned by the locals given their simple designs. Seemed the people of this world had more freedoms than many others she had seen. Though they all clearly showed signs of being within the Faceless Legion, likely all guardsmen, given they all wore uniforms of some sort even in this more casual setting. Families with children and groups of guards alike seen throughout the streets. Though the various crests that each citizen wore on their shoulders seemed to indicate that various families or factions existed amongst them, likely distinct units of the guard. The buildings they drove by stretching nowhere near as tall as those in a hive city, though it seemed the further towards the center one got the taller they became. A web of bridges and walkways connecting them, and signs of habitation spread throughout with small shops, eateries and other businesses open for the public. Plant-life grown all around the city in both massive and small gardens that brought an abundance of color. Domestic animals dotted around the city as they prowled about its streets with their masters. The forest that seemed to surround the entire outskirts of the city a very unusual feature. It was certainly an interesting place, one she would have to learn a lot about as she was to join its elite as a Noble of House Valor.

Given her two companions lack of travel, she explained all these things as they went. For Argus and Laeria, it was all new. Neither had seen anything like this world before, though given their secluded origins it wasn't unexpected. Mara rather amused at how excited they were, reminded of their relative nativity. The tall trees that made up the forest alien and completely fascinating to their eyes. The space port, the city, everything that they drove by an amazingly grand sight to behold. The imposing walls which surrounded the entire city and the land around it being one of the most imposing structures they had ever seen. Even for Mara, who wondered why it was necessary.

At the end of the path they took into the forest was a massive field of green grass, surrounded by verdant trees and mountain that bled into the walls that surrounded the city. A mansion, set homely in its center. Reminiscent of the country houses from Mara's original home world, she found herself nostalgic at the sight of it. A quaint structure, but one that was simple and humble. The structure four floors high and made in the gothic style that permeated Imperial design. High pillars that jutted along the wooden walls, arched rooftops and two towers that jutted out the top. One in the center and one on the far left. The entrance covered by a small overhang, highly decorated to resemble bristling vines, and supported by stone pillars with House Valors Insignia carved into them. A small lake beside the Mansion, and another set of buildings beside it. The servants and retainers quarters respectively. This, they discovered, was their new home. A permanent one.

When they arrived they were greeted with an entire staff of servants outside, nearly twenty different individuals. Made up from the members of important families of the city. Roland and Remora too were there, dressed the most proper that Mara had ever seen them. As it turned out, they were to become her retainers. While she was uncertain whether she would ever see them again, she certainly didn't expect to see them like this. Not that Roland hadn't, exactly, expected that this was where he would end up either. After being promised that he and Remora would be instated as nobles, he had expected some estate of his own with some servants, or at least a mansion to live in. Then again, this wasn't the worst place to end up, even if he would be working for a former crew member. Hey, he knew he was a useful guy to have around. Especially for someone like Mara. Remora too was rather happy with the outcome, seeing how she was given the opportunity to continue her teasing of Mara.

Much to Laeria's surprise, the two Eldar who were captured were also among them. After the last time she saw them, they had decided that no matter what they would follow Laeria, and became her personal retainers. As she was soon to be a proper noble herself, they were allowed this chance and they took it. Now they were dressed in suits and in much better health than she had seen them last. Really, she was happy to see they made the decision to live. Though, she wondered how they would handle things going forward. Valra, the more open and talkative one who seemed to accept her new circumstances well. The male however, continued to withhold his name and rarely spoke at all. But, he seemed willing to follow through on his decision at least. Either way she intended to help them both through to the future.

Argus though was at a loss. He was unaccustomed to being waited on by others, to the sudden status that he found himself hold, and being able to remain constantly worried. But with help from Mara and Laeria, he came to a mutual agreement with it. Mara ran the household, the servants and any political endeavors. Meanwhile, he turned to studying, reading books and attempting to write on his own as Mara taught him. He had spent so long simply surviving that he didn't know what to do at first. But he had time to think on what had happened, and then decided to learn as much as he could. Perhaps even share it if he managed. Laeria and Mara having to help him as he wrote much more advanced than he had ever needed to before, but it kept him busy. Above all, he just enjoyed his time with his family now that he didn't have to worry about some constant threat over his shoulders.

Laeria was overwhelmed with it all. She found she had trouble constantly being around people other than Argus or Mara, and found discomfort with the servants. But, as time went on she grew to accept their presence and even find some relief in some of them. Not that being constantly waited on and treated so, noble like, remained strange to her. Still, she managed it well enough taking Mara's example. Though, her relationship with her two Eldar retainers was… distant to say the least, and they rarely interacted with anyone but her. Thankfully all of the house servants and the other retainers did not mind, at least openly, that they, or herself, were Eldar. Remora becoming a friend to her of sorts, as she often talked with her. Particularly about Mara and their adventures together. After a time, she grew to like the lifestyle. Her training to be a full-fledged noble continuing in force since they had settled in. This sort of treatment and comfort, Mara explained to her, the usual for nobles of house Valor, and how she had grown up. Though Laeria's responsibilities would grow as she got older, for now she could take things a little easy. She even had her own room, completely furnished and with a large white, fluffy bed. Even if it was hard for her first few nights sleeping alone, as she had grown accustomed to sleeping with at least Argus and Mara nearby. Still, she knew it was best to give her guardians their own privacy as well. They had deserved it.

True to his promise, Argus became Mara's closest retainer and marriage partner. While she had originally intended to make him a regent of a territory, given they didn't have nearly as much land or reach as she expected, this was the better option. One that the both of them found they enjoyed much more. Within only a few weeks in their new home, Mara became pregnant. An experience very new for her, but a happy one all the same. Argus too was overjoyed at the concept, as he had never expected that he would ever have the chance to have children. Laeria doting on her soon to be sibling, as she imagined all the ways to teach them as they grew. Roland and Remora too soon to have their first child, Remora unwilling to let Mara best her.

Though the biggest surprise for all of them was that House Valor was still well and thriving elsewhere. Currently a steadfast ally of the Faceless Legion, they had claimed an entire world within the sector. When they learned that Mara was still alive, delegates were sent immediately. It was a very pleasant and happy revelation for House Valor, which had only just established their new homeworld on a nearby feudal world. The son of the previous High Lord, now High Lord himself, personally sent a letter expressing both his respect for her survival and his desire for her continued service as a proper delegate for the House. Mara officially made the new head and Lord of her father's household, established as the new progenitor of her family's legacy. Both she and Argus given their appropriate titles and recognition throughout House Valor. Laeria quickly accepted as their daughter, given Noble status and the right to pilot an Imperial knight of her own. A list of several addendums added that laid out expectations of their new household; including to propagate her family line with descendants, to maintain good relations with the Faceless Legion and to produce Imperial Knights capable of fighting whenever called upon. When informed that she had not the means to produce such suits, the order was given and nearly a dozen new Imperial Knights were ordered and shipped to her.

It happened so quickly she had to mandate the construction of a hanger and found herself suddenly beset with managing her estate. Argus helping where he could, though due to his lack of experience he mostly oversaw the construction and kept an eye on those called in to make the hanger. Laeria too getting her first taste of noble duties as she had to help manage other things, including the household staff which she found much more tenuous than expected. With both Remora and Roland around however, and Laeria's two retainers, they learned and managed well enough to support Mara. Soon enough everything was prepped and things returned to a calmer pace as the suits arrived and were safely secured.

At first, Mara was absolutely shaken by the entire revelation of House Valor being still alive. For such a long time, she had thought that House Valor was gone and that she was likely the only survivor. She sulked and lamented over it for years. Yet now, here they were giving her mandates and ushering her in as a proper Lord. When she had once desired to restart the House herself and reclaim its glory, now she was simply part of it again. It made her struggle feel… pointless. Almost. As she looked at what she had found in Argus and in Laeria, in her future children, she realized that it was not. In the end, it really wasn't about House Valor. It was about finding companionship, and the ability to make a choice for herself, one that wasn't dictated by responsibility put on her. No matter what, she would always continue to be an exceptional Lord of House Valor and proudly do so. She even watched with both worry, pride and excitement as Laeria was linked with her Knight Suit, a Knight Gallant, one of the most prestigious honors.

While she knew the risks, and made them absolutely clear to her, Laeria insisted that she would pilot one. Laeria had made the decision to follow through in her adoptive mother's shoes, as Mara could not pilot an Imperial knight anymore due to the injuries she had sustained throughout the years and her suit was long since destroyed. She felt it was her duty to do so, and in truth she wanted to give back as a noble of House Valor. Being an Eldar, she worried at first that it would go poorly, but it actually did the opposite. She found that connecting with Her Imperial Knight was a smooth and painless process as she took to it immediately. She named it Pathfinders Destiny. Given training by Mara and another pilot sent by House Valor, she quickly became quite good at piloting it as well. Argus helping to keep her in shape and train daily. Soon enough, she could even take initiates herself and really expand her family's assets.

This was the destiny she chose for herself, and she enjoyed every minute of it. She even tried to convince her two Eldar retainers to join her as Knight Pilots, but both of them declined. While they would follow her, they would not fight for the humans. Whom they would only stop calling Monkeigh after several years of asking would pass.

Instead, they settled to raise the Eldar children who began to appear one day, given to them by small convoys of Faceless Legion Guard that appeared out of the blue. When it first happened, Laeria was finally provided with something regarding the deal she had made with the Grand Commander. An entire 'orphanage' was built nearby the mansion, where the children would be housed. Where they came from, she did not know, only that she was responsible for their upbringing and to raise them as loyal members of her house. Why was not explained, but Laeria was good to remember her promises. So she raised them as Argus and Mara raised her. Her two retainers opting to live at the orphanage with the children and take care of them, bringing out the most happiness that she had seen from either of them. Though it wasn't very long before she noticed that all of the children were actually very similar to her. They seemed to be absent from the warp as she was, as if they had all made the same deal as she. While she knew they did not make such deals given their age, and that their previous memories were somehow erased, she did not question it. No, she did the best she could for them and put a lot of attention to the orphanage. She even allowed a small amount of human orphans to live there as well, hopeful to bring the two groups together and erode any biases that could still exist. While her retainers were uneased by the entire ordeal and pondered its intentions, Laeria found that she did not.

The children were her responsibility, and she fulfilled that task with care. Even if she didn't know what the plan was for them. That wasn't what the deal stated she needed to know, and as far as she could gather no harm was intended for them. No, it seemed more likely they were going to be important allies of sorts, raised beside humans and by Laeria. Though after a time, she did come to ponder that perhaps… she was the perfect person to raise them, precisely because she would raise them just as Argus and Mara had raised her. Perhaps, even, by design. But really, it mattered not.

Laeria smiled as she looked out the vehicle window at the children playing outside the orphanage. Human and Eldar mingled playfully and happily despite their differences. Her retainers watching over them from the side with smiles on their faces.

"Such a beautiful sight. To think this is where destiny would take me."

Her driver only smiled as he looked into his rear-view mirror at her.

"Destiny you say, lady Laeria?"

Laeria nodded.

"A destiny that I brought on myself. Nothing more beautiful than that."

Her driver looked over at the children.

"You really are happy looking after those children aren't you?"

Laeria smiled softly.

"I am. Makes me want to have my own one day."

She chuckled as she thought about it. She was nearing that age soon enough after all. But, in time as with all things. She simply wanted to enjoy the present as it was and then go into the future with hopeful eyes. With decisions made by herself and nobody else.

"Ok then, let's head home. Tonight my parents and I are going to have dinner celebrating the fulfilment of my training."

Her driver set the car into drive as they began to roll along. Happy that Laeria had continued to keep up her side of the deal. Laeria leaned back into her seat as she reminisced on everything, looking out the window at the trees as they passed by. Whatever the future held for them all, she would be sure to take it by her own hands. With a purpose she made for herself.


End file.
